


Like Fire in Our Bones

by acuteneurosis



Series: Don't Look Back [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Gen, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Politics, Skywalker Family Drama, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2020-06-25 01:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 50
Words: 153,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19735813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acuteneurosis/pseuds/acuteneurosis
Summary: With all of the most important things in the galaxy literally exploding around her, Leia is given the chance to go back and help keep a promise she never personally made.But then, for Skywalkers, saving the galaxy was always a family matter.





	1. Desert Born

**Author's Note:**

> Delving into a new fandom here. Hope you enjoy.

The first thing she noticed as she woke was the pain. She wasn’t expecting it and was more than a little surprised to realize it felt like her skin had shrunk over her muscles and that her joints all ached as if they had been wrenched almost apart.

Normally, the pain only came after she was awake enough to realize that Luke was still gone.

The ache in her heart pulsed, and Leia made herself breathe slowly as the last thought crossed her mind twice more, checking itself against reality. Yes, that faint light that had been ever-present in her mind was still dark and cold. Yes, she could not find her brother. Yes, Luke really was still gone.

Riding the waves of anguish that the unavoidable next thoughts brought (yes, that meant Han and Chewie were gone too) Leia forced herself to open her eyes and suffered another shock.

This was not her room.

Not Coruscant. Not planetside on any of the places that she had visited in the past weeks. Not her quarters on the ship that had almost started to feel like home until the moment when she had realized she might never find home ever again.

Not her room.

Pale walls, sparse furnishings, a musty smell like it was rarely used. No windows, but an open door, and the light seeping from that portal brought more brightness than she would have expected. Looking down at herself, but hesitating to move, Leia noted thin, white sheets, soft and well worn, slightly greyed from use.

“You’re awake,” a gentle, low voice murmured, and Leia turned to face the woman who slowly entered the room. Dark hair just barely touched with grey, a concerned, motherly look (which touched another pain, older but more painful again for the new pains stacked atop it), and cheap if serviceable clothes. Desert style and well worn, like the face of the woman. Like the sheets.

Shmi.

“Oh hell,” Leia groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and trying desperately not to remember. To her surprise, that earned a soft chuckle.

“Not quite, but close enough,” Shmi’s voice was smiling, Leia knew. Not at all offended, but maybe a little curious. “And you seem to have caught the worst of it.”

The tentative, “I’m sorry,” died in the back of Leia’s throat. She’d done enough apologizing these past months. So much it had almost crushed her even before all of this. “Thank you,” she managed instead. “You definitely saved me.”

There was a gentle shush of fabric moving and the bed dipped slightly. “It isn’t wise to be caught in the desert during a storm. We’ve been wondering how you got here.”

Hazy figures tugged at Leia’s memory, but she couldn’t remember them distinctly. Everything after she had landed was still mostly a blur. Except that brief introduction.

_“I’m Shmi Skywalker. You’re safe.”_

“To be honest,” Leia said, struggling to sit up without wincing, “I don’t think I could explain it. I’m not really sure how it all happened.”

That was a lie. Or at least a violent exaggeration of the truth. But there was no way she was going to try and explain it. Not to this woman and not now. Maybe someday…

“Cliegg is worried,” Shmi started, and seeing Leia’s confusion added, “My husband. We don’t get many visitors out here, and almost everyone from the planet knows how to not get caught in a storm. You aren’t from here,” she said, giving Leia a brief look over, “and he’s worried what it could mean.”

“Why? I’m not dangerous.” Also a lie, but a much less obvious one.

Shmi hesitated. “The last time I let strangers into my home who were from off world to protect them from a storm, one was a Jedi. And he took my son. It is… difficult to not see the similarities.”

_“I’m sending you to someone safe. Probably the only one who can help you actually fix everything. Do whatever is necessary. And don’t look back.”_

The words were a cold impression on Leia’s mind, and she swallowed slowly. “I’m not a Jedi,” she said carefully. “I never could be.”

“Most of us can’t,” Shmi said, a cautious look on her face. “That is a… unique way to put it.”

It took two more swallows and a deep breath before Leia managed in a tight voice, “My brother… was. Was… a Jedi.”

It was all she could manage. There was probably more she ought to add, to explain. Luke hadn’t really been a Jedi in the way that Shmi would be familiar with, if she had met a "real" Jedi. Temple trained Jedi. Child stealing Jedi (and Luke had never really gotten over that when he had realized how it had to have been, and what had happened to his-,their fa-, to Vader).

A warm hand covered hers, and Leia looked into eyes filled with deep sympathy and compassion. “I’m sorry. So sorry that you lost someone you loved.”

“Everyone,” Leia croaked, the grief lodged in her throat. “It was everyone, over and over-“

Alderaan and the rebels and planet after planet that they couldn’t bring into the new Republic and Luke and Han and Chewie and Artoo and-

_“And don’t look back.”_

She couldn’t. Couldn’t stop. Her eyes firmly fixed on the past, Leia cried and cried. Cried like she hadn’t allowed herself for years. Not since her mother and father had buried their friends as traitors and refused themselves even a single tear, just to protect her. She cried with grief and rage and hopelessness, sobbing in Shmi's arms, words and whispers of comfort washing over her in gentle, unintelligible waves. And Leia knew, no matter how much it hurt, she could never go back.

But she wasn’t strong enough not to look. Not yet.

Maybe never.

* * *

The Lars homestead was exactly as Luke had once described it and also nothing like his description at all. The basic framework was all there. Buildings mostly below ground level, different sections to spare power when it was scarce and confuse possible raiders, desert colors, few doors, and sand. Sand everywhere, no matter what you did. Always, all the sand. But that was just a feature of Tatooine, he’d said. All the sand in the worlds.

It was also a home. The ceilings were painted with dark designs in contrast to the pale walls. There were some tapestries and it had a very well used kitchen that smelled of earth and something Leia couldn’t quite place. For a place where nothing was supposed to grow, there was still the occasional splash of pale green and all the Larses were adamant that they were on a farm.

Leia hoped it was true, though it was a bit difficult to believe them.

Shmi was also mostly what Leia had expected, and nothing like. Luke's mentions of a grandmother that had died before he was even born had spoken of her kindness and gentleness, conveyed to him by stories from his aunt and uncle.

He hadn't mentioned that Shmi was strong. And brave (it took a lot to comfort a close friend, much less a complete stranger).

Leia let her fingers skim across the wall as she was led out of her room and down the hall. The tightness of her skin made it agitating, but there was something grounding in the action so she didn’t stop. Just took slow, careful steps as her bones creaked and her muscles stretched and eventually relaxed. Taking the few steps up to the open courtyard Shmi was leading Leia to was a little more painful, but she managed.

“So what brought you to our crack in the galaxy?” Cliegg had asked the moment she had reached out to shake his hand, carefully not wincing at the firm pressure.

Sensing his distrust (and was that just her experience talking, or was she feeling the Force at all, why hadn’t Luke ever explained the difference?) Leia hesitated before she answered. “I’m looking for something. A- A new start, I think. Or maybe just something better than where I was.”

“So you came here?” was the patently skeptical answer. “Whoever sold you that story was full of-“

“Cliegg,” Shmi cut him off firmly. “You didn’t let her finish.”

“It’s alright,” Leia said, shrugging. “I know I’m out of place here. I understand his disbelief.”

“Do you?” he pressed, looking her up and down, taking in her fine, dark clothes (she wouldn’t think about mourning, not under his scrutiny) and carefully styled if now mussy hair. She knew her skin was still mostly soft, even after all her adventures. There might be a few new stress lines on her forehead and around her eyes, but there was nothing about her that said she had ever been exposed to the idea of manual labor, much less put thought into practice.

Four years with her home gone and even a complete stranger still saw her as a delicate little princess.

“No need to look so surprised,” she managed to say with enough of an edge that Cliegg’s eyebrows shot up. “I wasn’t planning on being here earlier today, but now I am and that’s just how it is. I can handle it.”

That earned her a snort. “Says the girl who landed in the middle of a sandstorm,” he shot back. “Where’s your ship?”

And of course he had to start with that awkward question. “I los- I exchanged it. To get here.”

Technically true. Completely false.

“I don’t care what pile of scrap you were piloting,” Cliegg was, if possible, even more dismissive now, “if you traded it to stay here, you were cheated. And you deserve it.”

Leia managed not to mutter a bitter agreement and forced herself to keep his gaze until he was the one that looked away. But it was a dirty trick. He wasn’t wrong. Not about anything important.

“Why don’t we have lunch?” Shmi intervened gently, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “I think everyone will feel better after we’ve eaten.”

There was a grunt of reluctant assent from her husband and Shmi used it as an excuse to immediately shoo Leia to the kitchen to help with the meal. Since at this point that mostly meant helping to carry the dishes that a girl introduced as Beru seemed to have been preparing (that was Luke’s aunt, wasn’t it, why hadn’t he talked about this place more?) Leia was able to be unembarrassed and helpful.

Who knew how long that would last.

* * *

 _Oh, this really is hell_.

It was a brief thought that flared for a bright and sharp moment, hot and dry as the surrounding landscape, as the protocol droid in front of her turned and with an all too familiar stunted gesture in an all too familiar helpful tone announced, “Hello, I am C-3PO, human cyborg relations. And who might you be?”

“Leia,” she managed with what she felt was remarkable clarity as she stared at the grey metal coverings so unlike the gold she remembered and tried to reconcile the two images. “I’m Leia.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mistress Leia. I hope I may be of service during your stay here. I-“

“Thank you,” she cut him off with what she hoped was not too forced of a smile. “I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

“Of course! Only say the word and I-“

It was a relief to hear Shmi chuckle next to Leia, and made the younger woman relax as the all too familiar droid took several more seconds to pledge his service.

“He’s a bit… excitable,” Shmi admitted when they finally moved away from the vaporators and back towards the house (and it turned out this pile of rocks and machinery really was a farm, of sorts). “But I can’t help but love him in spite of it. Anakin begged me to keep him when he left.”

Heart stuttering slightly, Leia hesitantly asked, “Anakin?”

“My son,” Shmi answered quickly, her eyes gazing determinedly out across the desert. “The one who was ta- who left. With the Jedi. I expect he is still training with them, since they didn’t bring him back.”

The forced humor in her tone resonated with a tight feeling that prickled over Leia’s skin and she hoped (if only Luke had ever properly explained) that it was a Force driven sense of what Shmi was clearly feeling. Grief and loss. Maybe even regret?

It resonated even more as Leia thought about it, so that was probably right. If there were any feelings Leia would be able to pick up on right now, those would be it.

“Are you sorry?” The words had escaped before she could think them through, and Leia winced a bit as Shmi’s gaze snapped back to her guest.

There was a moment of hesitation before she answered. “I don’t regret freeing him. He deserved to be free. Everyone does. I couldn’t make him stay here either. Not after having been raised a slave. He would have tried to stay with me, tried to work for Watto to make him let me go. And that wouldn’t have worked. No better than before at least. He is- was such a sweet child. Always wanting to help everyone. I couldn’t hold him back. Not here. Not like this.”

It was difficult, impossible even for Leia to imagine what Shmi was saying. The only image in her head of Anakin Skywalker was a grown man, firm in his position in the Empire. Commander, tormentor, Sith.

How had he gone from being the sweet boy that Shmi remembered to being… that?

“It must be hard,” Leia said at last, tripping a little over the words. They were so inadequate.

Shmi sighed. “We do anything for the people that we love. No matter what it costs us. It’s the joy and pain of being a parent.”

_“I owe you. Possibly more than anyone else. Will you let me do this?”_

With a shudder Leia dragged herself back to the present, away from that ghostly place in her mind, cold blues and blacks, the saddest eyes (but she would never, _ever_ forgive him), words that echoed pain across the empty silence in her heart (she couldn’t feel Luke’s heartbeat, not anymore). Grinding her steps into the sandy ground, Leia let the irritation and pain of each movement grate through her mind in place of the memories that wanted to linger there.

“Is it worth it?” She hadn’t meant to ask that question either, but something in Shmi’s face told Leia the woman had not been asked this question often enough.

“I hope so,” was the whispered response. “I hope it was worth it.”

Descending the stone steps back into the house, Leia turned that thought over and over in her mind, lingering on it.

There was a pressure to it. Not quite like the tight prickling of grief, but with the same ethereal tone it swirled about in Leia’s mind. Ephemeral and delicate, as if it could change from one heartbeat to the next.

Hope.

The thought lingered as Leia helped with dishes and then allowed Beru to guide her through some basic attempts at helping with the cooking. It danced around, back and forth as Owen and Cliegg returned and the family sat down to dinner. It swelled as Leia found herself staring at C-3PO later that evening while helping the family shut down the homestead for the night.It burned as she changed into the clothes she had borrowed, letting her hair out and combing through the strands more meditatively than productively. The thought twisted and writhed as she tried to connect Shmi’s longing to the masked face of Darth Vader and failed time and again to feel anything beyond the pain of the past.

“Why did you send me here?” she asked the darkness in hushed tones, knowing there would be no answer. That there couldn’t be, not anymore.

That had been the price.

_“Do whatever is necessary.”_

Could she? Leia didn’t even know what _was_ necessary. Had virtually no training to reach into the Force and try and figure it out. She had only her gut instincts. And longing. Longing so deep and painful it almost stole her breath as she allowed it to come forward and gave it the attention she had been denying it all day.

It didn’t hurt as much now, she noticed. Now that she had cried some of it out.

She had a feeling though, that it would be back. In force.

Something clicked then, a dangerous thought.

What would Shmi give, to have a second chance?

The pressure around her swelled and for a split second Leia knew, _knew_ that if she offered Shmi the chance to see Anakin again Shmi would take it. No questions asked. Knew it as well as she had known the feeling of her brother’s life, shining near or far in the galaxy. As well as she knew her own name.

“I can’t,” she said out loud, thinking of Cliegg and Owen and Beru. Of responsibilities here and now. Of a lack of ship, or destination. Leia didn’t even know where Anakin Skywalker was right now. Or what year it was. Or anything.

_“Do whatever is necessary.”_

Luke had told her she was brave. Braver than he was (as brave as Shmi was?).

She hoped that was true.

_“And don’t look back.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't make any hard promises now about how much Extended Universe content will or will not appear in this story, but odds are higher than not that I will not be especially EU compliant, long or short term.  
> You have been warned.
> 
> I'll be adding more tags as they come up.


	2. Reckless Abandoned

The cold of the morning surprised her a little and Leia moved hurriedly from her room, across the courtyard, and into the kitchen where Beru, bless her, was already busy preparing breakfast.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Leia asked, swallowing pride and preparing to admit that whatever came out of Beru’s mouth would probably be outside the limit of the once princess’ cooking knowledge.

Luckily, Beru was either the kindest secondary hostess alive, or had read Leia perfectly well the day before. “The power’s still off in the droid garage. Could you go and turn it on? That way the droids can warm up before Cliegg and Owen need them.”

“Of course.” Because naturally Leia was more at home among wires and oil baths than kitchen implements and home cooked meals. She’d been in the rebellion far too long if this was what it had done to her.

What would her mother have said?

Not much, Leia had to admit as she bounded up one set of stone steps and then down another. Breha had never been one to fight her daughter’s nature, and Leia had been bound for adventure and rebellion as long as she had known the difference between the words Empire and Republic. The Alderaanian woman probably would have laughed and recommended Leia hire good help for the kitchen.

Smile tugging at her lips, Leia was able to face C-3PO’s morning greetings with more composure than she had anticipated.

“Well, if it isn’t Mistress Leia. So good to see you again. I trust you have been enjoying your stay here.”

Biting back the truth (there was nothing _enjoyable_ in anything about this place) she managed, “I’m very grateful. The Larses have been very kind, letting me stay here like this. I- I don’t have any way to repay them.”

“Oh, I’m sure they don’t mind that,” Threepio said cheerfully. “They are, as you said, most kind and most generous. Only think, Mistress Shmi insisted I be kept on all these years, and even convinced Master Cliegg that I needed new coverings. He said I wouldn’t be very useful, and indeed sometime I wonder if I’m best suited for this job. My primary programming is etiquette, you know, and-“

Nodding and making humming noises in all the right places, Leia checked the room to make sure the power was reaching everything properly, and that the droids were powering up as they should. C-3PO trailed along directly behind her, offering increasingly useless help and complimenting almost every choice she made in the few minutes it took her to make a full circuit of the room.

Who would have thought she’d be so sick of a familiar face already?

“Threepio,” she said, placing a hand over his mouth as she turned, ready to head back inside, “I need to go and see if Beru needs anything else. I’ll see you later today?”

“Why of course. I’ll just be out at the vaporators again. You must let me know if there is anything I can do for you. Anything at all."

"Thank you," Leia managed another smile, still tight but almost equal parts amused, and escaped back to the house before the protocol droid could start up again. She found Beru alone in the kitchen still. "Anything else I can do?"

Halfway through whatever would probably end up being the main part of their breakfast, Beru paused to think about the question. "No, I'm probably all good in here for now. Everyone else should be up soon." Then, conscientiously, "Did you sleep alright?"

The truth was probably close to, "As well as could be expected," but keeping in mind who she was talking to (and realizing she hadn't dreamed of her and Han's potential child again, so there weren't any tiny figures with dark eyes and soft, dark curls haunting her today) Leia managed instead, "Very well, thank you."

This was probably a good chance to also explain why she was up before sunrise, especially since no one had asked her to be available this morning, but Leia struggled to find those words and frame them in any way that came across naturally. She couldn't decide whether to be grateful or embarrassed when Beru's solution to the silence was to quietly turn back to breakfast and not push or even say anything.

“You’re up early.”

And of course it would be Cliegg who would notice. And say something. Leia set the tray of drinks on the table and smiled calmly, drawing on her senatorial experience almost as naturally as breathing. “I do that sometimes.”

A gentle nudge from Shmi prevented any further comments from her husband and they managed to sit down to a quiet breakfast. Owen and his father made plans for the day and Shmi explained to Leia that she wouldn’t be expected to help with any of the chores.

“I’d be happy to help,” Leia immediately offered, pointedly ignoring Cliegg’s skeptical look. “I’m pretty quick at picking things up.”

Shmi hesitated, looking between her guest and her husband. “We’ll be going over the building systems today, making sure the climate control is working properly. And maybe gathering the mushrooms from around the vaporators. It helps keep the animals away so they get less damaged.”

“I’ve worked a little on climate control before,” Leia offered. Multiple times, in completely different environments with a plucky multi-purpose astromech droid to help her, but who was really counting? “And I can always carry things.”

It was a winning idea as far as not feeling guilty while everyone worked that day. It was less successful in that Shmi and Beru had a work method that required minimal verbal communication, and frequently required very little from Leia as well. Which meant a day of very light physical labor and plenty of time to linger in her own thoughts.

Leia spent a lot of time practicing thinking about nothing (except a vicious loop of Luke’s voice telling her to clear her mind), but she wasn’t really sure about how well it worked.

“You’re tired,” Shmi said that evening as Leia returned from helping with the nightly shut down again. And there was an invitation in the words that suggested they meant more than just physical exhaustion.

It took two long breaths and swallowing twice as many lies before Leia could answer, “It’s been a long day.”

“I’m sorry,” Shmi put an arm around Leia’s shoulders, her voice understanding and gentle. “It isn’t always easy to be alone with the memories.”

“Does it feel like he’s dead then?” Leia asked before she could think better of it. She barely repressed a flinch at her own words.

Shmi hesitated before answering in an almost inaudible whisper, “Sometimes. Yes, sometimes it does.”

* * *

Leia remembered that.

* * *

She thought about it over and over in the following weeks as she learned more than she had ever planned to about vaporators and the shockingly small amount of water that seemed to exist on Tatooine. She thought about it between thoughts of her brother, and of Han, and Chewbacca, and every time Threepio asked her if there was anything that he could do to be of service. She thought about it as Cliegg’s gruff demeanor gradually improved and she earned what she thought was the beginnings of respect. She thought about it as she watched Owen and Beru, smiling and laughing together and having whispered conversations about their future when the family gathered underground for the evening.

Leia thought about it the day she saw raiders in the distance and urged Shmi back into the house with a level of panic that thoroughly surprised the princess and nearly brought her to her knees.

“It’s alright,” Shmi had said once they were inside, Leia braced against the wall and breathing slowly. “They won’t come after us. Cliegg has agreements with the other farmers. They keep us safe.”

And Leia was grateful that Shmi hadn’t asked questions and had waited until they were inside to say that.

* * *

And she thought about Anakin Skywalker, and how to Shmi, sometimes he was dead.

* * *

And she dreamed.

* * *

“Do you want children?” Beru asked one evening, when they were cooking together. “Your own family?”

“Someday,” Leia hedged, not really sure she wanted to talk about this, images of a now impossible future stuttering through her mind.

“Are you worried about it? That you won’t find someone to have a family with?”

It was a natural thought, given how things were going with Owen and Leia could understand how Beru wanted the reassurance and also to share her happiness. All of the Larses had a tendency to want to share everything they had, no matter how small.

Leia was careful when she answered, “I’m not really in a place to think about wanting children. They wouldn’t have a very safe life, even if they were an option. But I don’t worry about it. My parents adopted me when they realized they couldn’t have children. I can have a family when the time is right.”

If that family had been more real just a few short months ago, had taken on specific colors and features for a short time, she didn’t have to think about that right now.

Didn’t have to think that some of those features would once have belonged to Anakin Skywalker. Who Shmi sometimes remembered as one who was dead (and the smoke and the fire and the dark form on the pyre were just a dream, but one she had shared with Luke, so she knew that once it had been real and he had seen it and always remembered).

* * *

Leia remembered, and swallowed tears of rage over what had been stolen.

(Every day when she woke up, she still couldn’t feel his heartbeat or that warm ethereal glow.)

The warmth of a home surrounded her and Leia couldn’t accept it. The peace of the desert enveloped her, day after day as she moved from working in the house on menial tasks the Larses thought she could handle to more complicated ones as they realized that yes, in fact, she really was a quick learner.

Nothingness for miles and miles around nothing. Nothing but sun and sand and sun and hot wind for the day and chill gusts in the night. Nothing but occasional Tuskens, infrequent Jawas, and dozens of bizarre forms of resilient desert life. Whomp rats and banthas and-

* * *

One day, as they had been moving along between the vaporators, a cry had echoed faintly across the desert. And when Leia had searched across the desert and found nothing, Owen had whispered, with something between awe and fear, “Krayt dragon. Must be hunting.”

Leia remembered that cry. It was a song in her heart that she just kept singing, over and over, as the days passed by.

* * *

“Thank you for helping us like this,” Shmi said one day as they were out gathering mushrooms before the suns got too high. “It would have been natural if you had just left. Not many people want to work out on the farms. Especially… for as little as we’ve been offering.”

Just room and board and no questions asked that she couldn’t refuse to answer if the grief was too much (at least that was the excuse, because more than grief it was often that there just wasn’t a safe answer).

“I needed space,” Leia answered. “To think about where I’m going next. This was as good a place to start as any. You’ve been very gracious, letting me stay this long. I… I want to pay you back.”

That earned a soft smile. “You have.”

“I think I’ve paid Cliegg. But not you.”

And for a moment, Shmi’s expression sharpened. She breathed deeply, once, twice. Leia didn’t move, didn’t blink. Willed the woman who would have been her grandmother to understand without any words between them at all.

Shmi looked away, shaking. “I don’t need anything. I’ve been very blessed. My child is safe, my family is free, and I am not a slave. I have everything I wanted.”

“Except your son,” Leia said softly. “Except Anakin.”

“I love Owen,” Shmi answered, meeting Leia’s eyes again. “And dear Beru. They are my children.”

“So is Anakin.”

The conversation stopped, but it hadn’t ended.

* * *

“I’m thinking it will be time for me to leave soon,” Leia announced at dinner a few days later. Beru looked the most disappointed, but Owen seemed sorry to hear it and Cliegg’s face took on the gruff edge that said he didn’t like what he’d just heard.

“What, before the harvest?” he demanded.

Leia hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. It needs to be soon. I’ve got an idea now of where I’m going, and I’ll need to get there quickly, before I miss any more opportunities.”

“Where are you going?” Shmi asked, and Leia hoped no one noticed that the older woman had hesitated.

“Off planet. There’s some… government work that I’d like to do, but I’ll need to be closer to the core worlds. The news that’s trickling out here says civil war is a possibility, and I’d like to help try and prevent that.”

It had been a little while since she’d seen Cliegg so patently skeptical, but it was nice to know the expression hadn’t changed much. And in the stillness of the moment, Leia thought she might be able to feel a bit of the concerned disappointment as well. “Government affairs? No use getting involved in that business. You need money, and lots of it, to have a voice if you don’t have the connections born into your planet and family name. Fool’s errand, for someone who was making a new start and had to pick this planet.”

“I’d still like to try,” Leia countered, biting back the desire to list off her years of experience and knowledge that would give her no small edge as she creeped back into that world.

And it was time. What little news she had been able to glean from the Lars’s small network and her rough memory of pre-empire dates, the Clone Wars were fast approaching. Which meant it was high time to find Anakin and see if she could right his wrongs. Before they had even happened.

Please, before any of them had really happened. She had no idea all the things that Darth Vader may have ever done. As a Jedi or Sith.

“What exactly do you plan to try?” Cliegg pressed, and Leia knew she didn’t really want to get into this conversation.

“There are more than a few planets that are probably working on negotiations. I’m sure there’s something that I can help with.”

She tried to say it with the confidence of a seasoned negotiator and politician, but uncertainty crept in and lingered. Leia did have plenty of experience, for all the good it had done her the past few years, putting out fires across that galaxy and dragging planets back into the New Republic, only to watch other conflicts arise and old allies turn away, shaking their heads and saying maybe later. When things were more settled. When they had everything in line.

Looking back, Leia couldn’t remember not hating every single minute of it from the moment she stepped off of Endor and into that new, fledgling world.

Even before it had taken her family away from her.

“Do you know where you’ll be heading first?” Beru asked, breaking a slightly awkward silence.

Leia smiled. “Mos Eisley first, I think,” she answered, ignoring Owen as he choked on his food. “I’ll need passage and it’s the closest spaceport.”

“And the most dangerous,” Cliegg growled.

Which was not technically true. Leia had seen plenty of spaceports in her time, and while Mos Eisley was certainly one of the dirty, smuggling heavy ones, it was far from being the most dangerous. Smugglers could be bought. The Emperor’s Imperial troops had had a tendency to love pain more than money. Or to take cash without really being bought.

“I can handle myself,” Leia retorted with more confidence in that statement than she had managed for her political skills. “I’m used to that sort. I know how they do business, and I know how to deal with it.”

Her hand had found her blaster at her hip, the last remnant of her old life besides the clothes she had come in that she still had. Han had given it to her, had picked it out specially to fit her hand, had practiced with her until she’d been able draw while firing as he so often had.

It made her burn to even think about it, but she could use it.

She already had.

“You won’t earn any favors by causing trouble,” Cliegg seemed even more determined than before. “Stay here the rest of the year, finish the harvest with us. We’ll take you in with us and you can book passage when you have real money to barter with.”

It was tempting. Leia had no material wealth to her name, and she couldn’t afford to sell her blaster (not in the least because she was pretty sure this model couldn’t possibly exist yet), not if it was going to be her leverage in a port of smugglers and bounty hunters.

But a sense of urgency had been growing day by day, swelling in Leia’s chest. It almost didn’t leave room for the pain her grief brought, it was so consuming. She didn’t have time to wait anymore. This would be her last night. She was sure of it.

Shaking her head, Leia managed, “I appreciate it, but it’s time. I… don’t know how to explain it, but if I don’t leave now I know I’ll lose the chance to do what I need to the most. I’ve got my feet under me now, and I know I have all of you to thank for it.”

Cliegg held her gaze as Leia said the words, and a little of the gruffness left him. “We’d be happy to keep you. You do good work.”

“I hope so,” was her immediate response. “And I hope the Republic thinks so too.”

All that earned was a humph, but Leia accepted it with a smile. Maybe she could still negotiate with stubborn, irascible people.

But now would be the really tricky part.

Summoning all her courage (and drawing on the pressure in her chest that suddenly was almost threatening to explode), Leia turned to Shmi and asked, “I was wondering if you'd like to come with me.”

Dead silence. Everything frozen in place, completely still. In that silence Leia was almost certain she heard Shmi’s heart stop, as Beru’s and Owen’s started racing. Leia knew her own heart was pounding in her chest, not fast but heavy and deliberate. She felt the blood moving through her veins, felt something tightening over her skin, felt the world slowly slipping a little away, as if she was almost watching herself and the others at the table with outside eyes.

Shmi’s heart stuttering into a beat again.

Cliegg’s breathing going in and out in two quick, sharp hisses.

Her own eyes blinking once, twice, while her gaze was unflinching.

“I’ll probably end up going to Coruscant,” she felt her mouth say, almost as if it was someone else speaking the words. Or as if she was parroting what someone had whispered in her ears. “The Jedi temple is there. You might see Anakin.”

It was cheating. Leia knew it. But she wasn't fighting fair. Hadn't since her first act of espionage. Since that blast of green energy and the death of Alderaan. Since Luke and Han and Chewie and Artoo had disappeared in a wave of heat and pressure, obliterated beyond recognition, beyond existence. Since that bright and shining light had been ripped out of her heart.

_“Do whatever is necessary. And don’t look back.”_

Since she’d looked into the darkness and seen her own pain reflected in a stranger’s eyes. We failed them. All of them. And there is no going back. It can’t be undone.

Not without a price.

He had paid it. She had accepted it. Now was the time to act on it.

“Shmi?”

There was no need to press the point, Leia knew. From the moment she said the words, she knew her once grandmother had lost the will to fight. All that was left was the longing. Taking a deep breath, Shmi barely managed, “I don’t think it’s fair that I leave before the harvest. Perhaps another time, if you ever come back-“

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Cliegg’s words were sharp and his tone was frighteningly flat. But Leia turned to him, ready to face anything he threw at them. Except for what he actually said. “Take the protocol droid with you. Maybe Anakin can fix him so he’s less obnoxious.”

There was another silence, just as deep but less distant than the last. Leia blinked twice more, felt everyone at the table make a sharp intake of breath.

“What?” Shmi managed to speak first. “Cliegg-“

“Don’t argue,” he growled. “I won’t change my mind about it. We always said those Jedi should have taken you with them. Now’s your chance, and you’ll take it.”

“But you need-“ Shmi began.

“One less set of hands won’t ruin the harvest,” he grumbled, shoving food into his mouth and quickly swallowing it. “You always said you’d go if you had the chance. We both knew it. Leia says she’ll take you, and crazy as she is, I think she’ll make it. So go.”

Blinking furiously, Shmi reached across the table and placed her hand over her husband’s. “I- I can wait. I’m sure Leia would be willing to come back. Sometime later.”

Willing, yes. But now was the moment and Leia was grateful when Cliegg looked up, met his wife’s eyes and said, “But she’s here now, and you can go this time.” A quick breath, and then, “Don’t make us watch you carry that regret. You’ve never given us the others, no matter how often we would’ve taken them.”

Apparently Shmi didn’t have any response for that. Her hand clenched into a fist and she took a deep breath. “I do want to see him again,” she admitted in a hushed voice. “I really do.”

Something eased, not just in the room but in Leia’s heart. “Then we’ll make that happen,” she promised, feeling the comforting weight of those words as she spoke them.

Shmi smiled, and Leia saw hope in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented, especially who left suggestions or asked questions. It helps. Hope you enjoyed chapter two.


	3. Sky Walkers

It wasn’t that she hated space ports, but Leia never really felt safe in them anymore. Especially not one with this many bounty hunters roaming around.

“Is everything alright?” Shmi asked, stepping closer as she did and eyeing a cluster of traders with the mistrust of a woman who had once walked very similar streets as a slave.

“Yes,” Leia answered, willing it to be true as she tried to tune out the instinctual itch that came in a crowd with this many eyes on her (and maybe some of that tension had always been her sensitivity to the Force). “I’m just trying to decide where to start.”

She was also regretting sending Owen back so quickly. They had said all their goodbyes at the farm that morning and he was needed for work back home, but it would have been nice to have another warm body to stand behind her, creating a safe space there (a space a wookiee had once filled, and no one else would ever quite manage), and looking a bit more imposing than just Leia could.

“Threepio,” she called, wishing the protocol droid had a bit more mobility to him, “don’t fall too far behind.”

“Of course, Mistress Leia. I am right behind you,” the faithful droid answered, shuffling as fast as his stiff metal legs would allow. They needed to get him off this planet. The sand slowed him down just enough extra that he was practically useless.

An arm linked with Leia’s and she looked over at Shmi, who half whispered, “What exactly are we looking for?”

Leia bit back her immediate response (a miracle), and smiled as confidently as she could. “We’ll know it when we see it.”

Which didn’t seem to inspire much confidence in Shmi, but the older woman just nodded and Leia thanked the stars for a grandmother who understood that some things just couldn’t be explained out loud. Like the conviction that Leia had that they were, in fact, in the right place right now. They just needed to be patient. And keep looking.

Probably.

“You lost?” an overly helpful pilot asked them at one point, eyeing them in a way that made Leia immediately defensive.

But she just gave him a look (perfected on Han, in a very different time), and he instinctively took a half step back even before she had vocalized her clear and concise, “No.”

There were two other times that people almost approached, smiles broad and overeager. Leia kept her hand on her blaster, her eyes narrow, and her nose just a little in the air.

Thankfully, that at least seemed to work. The patience was a more dubious pursuit.

She was starting to severely question her gut instincts when some anxious chatter reached her ears.

A party of twelve or so Rodians had caucused near the entrance of a docking bay, gesticulating and making a number of high pitched tones in their native tongue that made Leia hesitate instead of passing them.

“What is it?” Shmi asked, at almost the same moment Leia turned back to Threepio and asked, “What are they saying?”

There was the familiar slight head cock and arm twitch as Threepio answered, “Well, it seems they are having trouble with the pilot of their ship. Apparently he doesn’t want to take them any further, not at the rate they’re offering to pay him. How unfortunate. Do we have enough money to hire a pilot?”

Instead of answering Leia moved forward, slipping away from Shmi and asking Threepio to introduce them. He tapped one of the Rodians on the shoulder and made a series of noises Leia hoped were the proper greeting for this kind of circumstance.

The Rodian responded and Threepio turned to Leia to relay, “They offer their greetings and want to know what we would like from them. He also,” Threepio hesitated, “made a rather rude and idiomatic statement about this being a public street and being allowed to stand here.”

Smiling, Leia turned to face the Rodians and started speaking, pausing every so often so that Threepio could translate. “We got the impression you could use some help getting off planet and thought we’d offer our services. Where are you heading?”

“Herdessa,” Threepio informed her when one of them answered. “They thought about stopping here rather than continuing, but apparently there isn’t much work beyond bounty hunting, at least around here. Which they are… not pleased about. What help are you offering? Work?”

“A pilot,” Leia said, waiting for Threepio to translate and for the group to react. A few heads turned in her direction, and she felt something like the slight lightening of a pressure.

“He says they have a pilot,” Threepio translated after a moment, “but we know that can’t be true, because we just heard them say they didn’t.”

Leia ignored the worry and said, “I’m a better pilot. And you don’t have to pay me.” There was a skeptical tittering as Threepio translated this before Leia added, “I would just want passage for me and for my companions, the woman and the droid. We want to get off of this rock as much as you do.”

It was humiliating how long the crowd debated, Leia realized after the first couple of minutes. No one had ever questioned Luke or Han if they could fly a ship (and that sharp pain of regret wouldn’t show on her face, she was at least a good enough diplomat to avoid that).

“They would like to leave immediately,” Threepio told her, when the leader of the small group turned to the droid with an answer. “If you really can get them to Herdessa.”

“Just show me the ship,” Leia said, still projecting that unnatural certainty. The ships here might be older, but she’d been taught a thing or two about flying in the past few years. Enough to at least make the jumps necessary to get them to Herdessa. There would be more work options there for everyone, including Leia and Shmi.

Hopefully she wouldn’t have to resort to bounty hunting. It was technically an option, but Leia wasn’t sure her traveling companions would really like it.

* * *

The _Millennium Falcon_ had always been the junkiest ship Leia had flown in. Until this moment. It was with more than a bit of bitterness that Leia realized her family and friends and even the rebellion had spoiled her with what to expect from any kind of transport ship. Or freighter.

The ship in front of her was actual junk. Probably literally pulled from some sort of scrap heap somewhere and cobbled together with desperation as much as skill. She could understand the Rodians’ sudden transition of loyalty from their old pilot, and willingness to try Leia’s skills. These people had almost nothing left. And they would be damn lucky if they could even scrap this mess wherever they landed.

“I don’t think,” Shmi said very quietly, “and I’m not an expert of course. But I don’t think it should look like that.”

“It’s space worthy,” Leia answered. “If they’ve made it this far. Threepio said they came from Khubeaie. That’s not a nothing trip. We should be able to make it to Herdessa, no problem.”

“And from there?” Shmi prodded. “That wasn’t our actual destination.”

Facing the reality that no one here (except possibly, maybe C-3PO) thought she was capable of doing any of this, the once princess squared her shoulders and admitted, “It may take some time. But Herdessa will be a safer, easier place to work with. To get to where we really want.” She could try and look up old (or rather, at this point very _young_ ) contacts, people that had soft enough hearts Leia could spin some sort of lie (or even truth) and get them help. “It’s also a refugee stop, which is probably why the Rodians are heading there. We can use this.”

And they could. The controls were less clunky than she had been expecting, more familiar than she would have thought. She asked a couple questions to confirm a few things, made sure they had completely refueled the ship, and winced when the leader admitted through Threepio that with Hutt “taxes” they hadn’t quite managed to get all the resources that they wanted.

“Right,” Leia grumbled as she turned back to the console, fingers gripping the controls to prevent her from rubbing her head. “Hutts are here.”

And damn that fat worm and his putrid breath and stubby, slimy hands and bulbous, flat face. That wriggling, slithering blob had the audacity to be _alive_ again after all the work she had done to remove his gross presence (and the flood of emotions and memories that came with the rancor and the sarlacc, and Han frozen against the wall, and having to rely on Lando after his betrayal, and the dark and mysterious Luke that had led them after Bespin because of _Vader_ , and all that he had done and stolen), and Leia wasn’t ready to forgive that.

She would be back. If only to finish _that_.

“You look comfortable there,” Threepio said, on behalf of Coq Zita, the Rodian answering Leia’s questions. “You’ve done this before?”

“A thousand times,” Leia answered, and the slight snout twitch that Leia recognized as a Rodian smile made a brief appearance. Coq spoke a bit more and Threepio added, “He says they like you much more than their last pilot. You’re much prettier. And more polite.”

“I’ll bet I smell better too,” Leia smirked, and was a little embarrassed when the protocol droid decided to translate that too.

“He says most certainly, yes,” Threepio informed her after Coq had laughed. “And I think it was rather impertinent of him.”

Leia laughed too, started preparing the ship and setting the nav computer, and two hours later (because a host of other, Hutt marked ships got clearance first) they were off.

* * *

Shmi joined Leia in the cock pit after a few hours. Impressed that it had taken that long for Shmi to lose interest in their traveling companions, Leia didn’t say much when the woman came and leaned up behind the pilot’s seat, staring out the window at the blue white stream of hyperspace.

A half glance back confirmed to Leia that Shmi’s eyes were wide, her lips pressed firmly together.

“How fast are we going?” she eventually asked.

“Really fast,” Leia answered, taking a more relaxed posture, letting her hands rest on the controls without gripping them. “That’s why the ship is doing most of the work at this point.”

Moving her hand to one of Leia’s shoulders, Shmi gripped tight. “It’s wonderful. And terrifying.”

“Can you imagine Anakin flying in this?” Leia asked, and noticed that Shmi’s grip eased.

She chuckled. “Oh yes. Yes, he would love it.”

“I’m sure he would.” After another silence, Leia volunteered, “I actually prefer the parts of travel outside of hyperspace. It’s beautiful, and you get a real sense of how large the galaxy really is. How much life and light are out there.”

Nights on Tatooine had been hard, but when she couldn’t sleep Leia had snuck out to the open courtyard, braved the chill, and laid back and stared up into the night sky, trying to remember the location of all her favorite stars (and relish that within the orbit of that sun, Alderaan was still alive). The little dots of light had been a soothing blanket that covered a multitude of hurts.

She loved the coldness and the distance of those lights. And the darkness that held the stars and kept them hung in the sky.

“I don’t know if I was meant for this,” Shmi admitted softly, and Leia didn’t answer right away.

“Biologically speaking, you’re not. No life form I’ve ever met was. That’s probably what’s so terrifying about this. Your body knows it’s not supposed to be here. You just have to convince it to suck it up and fly anyway.”

The feeling of Shmi trying to conquer her fear rolled around the small room. Leia recognized it and trusted that she knew what it was. Reading Shmi was somehow easier than reading other people. It came more naturally and created a solid baseline for Leia to gauge whether other things that she was feeling were from herself, or were an impression left by movement in the Force.

“I think I will go back and sit with the others,” Shmi said. “Thank you, for sharing this.”

Leia nodded, turning her attention to the screens in front of her. “Any time.”

The door hissed open and closed and Leia was left alone again, watching the blurred movement of space. Leaning back in her seat, she tried again to figure out what Luke had meant about clearing her mind, tickled by a sensation like stars flickering in darkness that skimmed over her skin.

* * *

It was the rough equivalent of the middle of the night, and Leia was starting to regret not taking Coq up on covering her for a bit to let her catch some sleep before she would be needed at the controls to handle landing. With the interplanetary time differences, Leia knew they would be setting down mid-morning on Herdessa, for all that it would still feel like the dark abyss before the crack of dawn.

She’d thought she could handle the sleep deprivation. She’d managed it before.

She’d forgotten about waking dreams.

Tapping into the well of energy that never seemed quite depleted, one that she had drawn from over and over again across the years (and it was so strange, that she had always had this access to the Force, and had never realized what it really was) kept Leia conscious. But it also triggered other senses.

Like visions of the past.

Here, in the cold light of space, her mind took her to a different ship. One that had often felt more like home than land had over the past five years. She could see the wookiee in the cockpit, trying to hold the ship steady while also maneuvering around heavy fire from a half dozen enemy cruisers. Could feel the slight rocking from the guns that were being manned down the hall. Could hear Chewie’s final roar and a screeching beep from a droid behind her as two torpedoes in a large cluster made it past the dead eye shooting coming from the _Falcon’s_ manned guns.

She saw fire.

She saw nothing.

She saw space.

“Mistress Leia?” a metallic voice chimed and Leia jumped slightly in her seat. “Our passengers are wondering how close we are to landing, to see if they should wake the children up.”

“Forty minutes,” Leia answered, having checked the screen as Threepio had started talking. “They probably don’t need to wake anyone yet. I’d say wait another thirty minutes.”

“Of course, Mistress Leia. Thank you.”

Collapsing back in the chair, Leia allowed herself several deep breaths before she tried closing her eyes, not sure what would be behind them.

Fire again, as it turned out.

Instead of turning away from it, she tried to face it. To see past the bright heat to the crumbling ship and disintegrating form she had been watching before.

She could almost see it this time, she thought.

“Just like hell,” she muttered to herself. Then thought of Shmi and snorted. “Or close enough.”

“And here I was thinking we’d finally escaped it,” came an amused reply.

Leia turned and gave a tired smile to her companion. “Apparently,” she answered with more heaviness than she had intended, “sometimes we just get to carry it with us.”

The look Shmi gave her was a little too understanding and Leia turned back to the controls to avoid as much of it as she could. Thankfully, when she spoke all Shmi said was, ”Threepio says we’re landing soon.”

“Thirty minutes out,” Leia confirmed.

When it was clear the younger woman wasn’t adding anything else, Shmi asked, “What is it like, landing on a new planet? On Herdessa?”

It took Leia a moment to find an answer. “Landing on a new planet is… always nerve-racking,” she eventually managed. “Even when you think you know what to expect. Herdessa… I’ve only been a few times, very briefly. But we’ll be landing in the capital, which is where I visited. It will be busy, packed with people. And it’s an industrial planet, so expect lots of buildings and droids and smog.”

“Smog?” Shmi asked, and Leia had to think about that one too.

“Dark smoke, but from industrial burning, not just simple fires. Not quite clouds, but it can make the air,” she struggled for a word that would make sense to someone from a completely arid environment, and settled on, “thicker. Or something.”

“It will probably be easier to explain once I see it,” Shmi replied with a grateful smile. Then she frowned again. “I don’t have any papers. Cliegg only had my slave note, and I didn’t think that would be of much use.”

Nodding, Leia turned half her attention to the ship and dropping them out of hyperspace. “It wouldn’t be any use. We’ll be fine without papers though. Plenty of people travel without them. The Rodians have some, but they know what kind of work they are looking for, and what quarter they want to settle in. Papers help with that. We’re a bit more- Well, we’re improvising. If we stay here long enough, we could look into getting papers, probably claiming some sort of refugee status. But if not, we can just pick them up on the next planet, or whenever we get to Coruscant.”

“We aren’t- Will there be a lot more planets? Before Coruscant?”

Leia tried to sound as soothing as possible. “I doubt it. Herdessa is more likely to have ships heading straight there. I might be able to offer my services as a pilot again, but more likely we’ll stay here for a bit, earn some money with odd jobs, and then pay for passage with someone else. Maybe at discount, if we volunteer to work on whatever craft we find.”

“I- I don’t know much about ships. Anakin did. He was very good with them. I only know farm equipment. And housekeeping.”

“You’d be surprised at how much you already know, just from the farm equipment,” Leia said, making sure to meet Shmi’s eyes for a moment. “And what did you do for- before Cliegg and the farm?”

There was a brief pause before Shmi answered, “Not much. Watto had much more use for Anakin. I cared for his home, cooked his meals. Shopped sometimes, or rummaged for spare parts that Anakin could repair for him. I’m- I’m not lazy. I just don’t know that I know anything that will be useful… here.”

As Shmi said the words they softened, as if the growing image of the planet outside had absorbed them. Thick, brown grey tufts hovered where clouds would normally be, over the massive cities that sprawled so heavily they could be seen in basic outline, even from this distance.

More grey than Coruscant, Leia thought. Dirtier, even from this height.

“I’m sure we’ll find something,” she managed to say after a few moments. “It won’t be glamorous, but we’ll make do.”

“I don’t think I belong anywhere glamorous,” Shmi retorted with a chuckle (and maybe a hint of bitterness, coloring the edges of it). “So this will probably suit me just fine.”

Rather than suggesting she was wrong, Leia focused on their flight, trying to ease the ship through the atmosphere.

There were a disturbing number of creaks and groans as they descended, but the ship held together and the systems all reported that everything onboard was still safe. Following directions from the landing operators, they eventually managed to touch down, almost smoothly.

“Very well done,” Shmi said with a smile. “We’ve made it.”

* * *

Two hours later, things were looking worse, not better.

It had taken forever for a deck official to come to clear them, and now…

“Coq Zita does not understand what the problem is,” C-3PO repeated probably for the tenth time. “Their papers are in order and their ship has landed in an appropriate zone. Could you please clarify?”

After a few frustrated snorts and growls, there was a mostly articulate reply from the official processing their paperwork, “It’s not Coq that’s the problem. Not his people either. It’s the pilot.”

“Oh,” Threepio said cheerfully. “Well, why didn’t you say so before?” He turned to Leia. “Mistress Leia, it seems that we-“

“I heard him,” she said before he could get too excited. “What’s the problem? We aren’t asking to be processed with the Rodians. We’re a separate group, who happen to have been traveling on the same vessel.”

“No pilot’s license,” the official huffed.

Leia raised her eyebrows. “No local one? Of course not. This is my first time on planet. And they aren’t required on Tatooine.”

Possibly a lie, but she was pretty sure it would stick. A confident posture and authoritative voice went a long way. And then there was the natural Skywalker charisma. Not something she had used to assume she had, but now…

Well, something was unnatural about her. There was no denying it.

And it appeared to be working. “Well, I suppose- I guess- That’s fine then. But no more flying here. And you can’t be processed with them. You don’t have papers.” He nodded to Coq and the other Rodians.

“Fair enough,” Leia smiled. “We’ll stand over here while you finish. Threepio, can you please explain the delay to our friends?”

The protocol droid was more than happy to continue to help, and Leia stood with Shmi, watching from a short distance.

Hoping to prepare them for whatever was ahead (this would be trickier than she had thought) Leia took the moment to close her eyes and try again to quiet her mind.

As usual, it didn’t really work. The more she tried to reach out, the noisier everything became around her. It ebbed and flowed in moments of perfect silence (as if she had shut off all her senses and pushed everything away) and crushing awareness, where she was pulled in a thousand different directions by random scents, sounds, and sensations across her skin.

Trying to sort through it, Leia kept getting the impression of something glittering right behind her. She turned, opening her eyes and scanning the other landing platforms. Most of the ships nearby were only in slightly better condition than hers, but not too far away was a bright, shining silver vessel.

Leia blinked. It looked like… it looked like the government ship Senator Pooja Naberrie had always flown in.

Almost without thinking, her feet started carrying her away from their passengers and ship and toward this new, bright spot in her vision. She made it about ten steps before she felt someone catch her arm and turned to see Shmi’s confused face.

“There’s something over there, I think,” Leia tried to explain. “I’m just going to look for a bit.”

Crossing two other landing platforms and dodging the irritated crew members, Leia made it within throwing distance of the ship, Shmi trailing slightly behind her, before she came to a stop, suddenly leery.

Something tightened like a vice in her chest and her head snapped to the right, finding a group moving towards the ship.

“Senator, please.” The voice was unfamiliar, but the vice feeling tightened even further as Leia heard it. “I know this is a difficult time for you-“

“Senator Amidala, I agree with you,” came a slightly harried reply. “There is a growing crisis and I want to help. But the Senate isn’t providing the funding necessary for us to keep taking on more and more refugees, and I don’t know how long we can keep making things work like this.”

“Shea,” Senator Amidala had stopped walking and placed a hand on the other woman’s arm, “I know how difficult this is. I’m willing to do everything I can to make it happen. Please, just tell me you’re willing to help.”

There was a brief silence and a long, exasperated sigh from the other Senator. “I want to, Senator Amidala. You know I do. But I have my people to consider, as you have yours.”

There was a flash of hurt on Senator Amidala’s face (and Leia might be having a slight panic attack because she was looking at the heroic, beautiful, intelligent, courageous _Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo_ ) and Leia felt a stabbing sensation right through the tension that was grabbing her heart. The sensation of betrayal cut deep and even with her extraordinarily limited experience, Leia _knew_ this was the Force.

An awkward silence was growing, and Leia was as surprised as anyone when Shmi stepped forward and in a tentative voice called out, “Padmé?”

The full attention of the senatorial party was now directed their way, and Leia watched in fascination and something close to envy as Senator Amidala’s expression moved from confusion to complete surprise.

“Shmi? Shmi Skywalker?” The senator crossed the distance between them with quick strides, coming right up to the older woman and looking into her face with delight and wonder. “Oh. Oh it’s so good to see you again!”

“Yes, of course,” Shmi’s hands fluttered a bit. “I didn’t think- I wasn’t expecting to see…”

Senator Amidala frowned, “What are you doing here?”

There was a slight hesitation before Shmi answered, “We- We were just stopping here. On our way to Coruscant…”

“We?” Senator Amidala turned to look at Leia, and the poor one-time princess immediately forgot how to speak. Or think. Or breathe.

“This is my friend,” Shmi answered when it became clear that Leia wouldn’t. “Leia offered to travel with me, to make sure I was safe.”

The smile Leia got from the senator was a bit hesitant, but thankfully some part of Leia’s brain had reengaged (and how in the hell that was Tatooine did Shmi Skywalker know _Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo_ ), and she was able to smile in response and execute something more formal than a nod, but not quite as proper as a bow.

“Senator,” she managed to say without stuttering. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The sincerity echoing from each word earned the senator’s smile and Leia felt like she had been exposed to a very focused shaft of sunlight.

The vice-like grip on her heart somehow tightened even more and she desperately hoped she wouldn’t have to speak again until it let up. She wasn’t entirely sure she could.

“I can’t believe it,” Senator Amidala said, turning back to Shmi. “I never would have guessed, suspected-“

Shmi folded her arms, shaking her head. “It was a surprise for me too. Being here… it’s like a dream.”

Senator Amidala opened her mouth for a moment, then hesitated. Leia was stunned to see the senator looked a bit ashamed. “I- I owe you an apology.”

Shmi blinked several times. “For what?”

The senator met Shmi’s eyes, her own a little moist as she said, “I… I didn’t come back for you. I should have. I’m so sorry.”

A taste of longing and regret filtered through the pain that was still constricting in Leia’s chest for a moment before Shmi shook her head. “We had no deal. You made me no promise. It’s- It’s alright.”

“I still should have come back. It would have been right.”

Voice cracking Shmi said, “I just… wanted to see my son. To see Anakin again. That’s all.”

There was a pause while Senator Amidala took a deep breath. “I can-“

“Senator Amidala?” The Herdessa senator approached along with two of Senator Amidala’s guard and an all too familiar blue and white astromech (and Leia’s clenched heart screamed and she heard a warning beep and saw fire and nothing), all eyeing the two strangers with some concern. “Are these friends of yours?”

Before the Naboo senator could answer, there was a shout of, “Oi, you two! You haven’t been processed yet!”

The official from the other landing pad was storming over, fur bristling while C-3PO scuttled along behind him. Leia heard an expressive blat from Artoo, but couldn’t decide who it might be directed at.

Coming to a halt a couple paces away from Shmi and Leia, the landing official began, “And just what do you think-“

“They’re with me,” Senator Amidala said, moving Shmi aside slightly and stepping forward. “I’m Senator Amidala, of the Naboo.”

“Coo, they didn’t come with you, my lady,” the official said, narrowing his eyes. “Came in just now with that pack of new Rodians. Looking for work, they are, and not likely to find it here, I tell you. And this one,” he pointed a finger at Leia, “not even licensed to fly.”

“Here,” Leia corrected, voice strained more by the bizarre and heavy sensations in her chest than actual anger. “I’m not licensed to continue flying here. We already discussed this.”

“Well, she’s not going to keep flying here,” Senator Amidala intervened. “She’s coming with me. And our pilots are licensed to fly anywhere in the Republic.”

The official seemed slightly appeased by this, but seemed to realize he had also been derailed from a point. Before he could find it again, the Herdessa senator added, “They do still need to be processed though. And they shouldn’t have left their landing platform until they were.”

“I’m sorry,” Leia managed to get out in a mostly normal voice. “That was my fault. Of course we’ll go back and finish being processed properly.”

This mollified the official, but when he continued to grumble as he was retreating Senator Amidala stated, “I’m coming too.”

The grumbling stopped, and the travelers ended up being escorted back to the ramshackle ship (which Leia delightedly and embarrassingly noticed that Senator Amidala eyed with no small amount of horror and scorn) by both senators, two of each of their guard, C-3PO, R2-D2, and someone who was probably the Herdessan senator’s assistant.

Paperwork finished and ship designated for scrapping, Leia turned back to the task at hand. “I’m sorry for the trouble,” she directed her words to both senators. “Thank you for all of your help.”

“We did nothing,” the Herdessan senator said a bit stiffly, watching Leia with more than a little wariness. “All of this was standard procedure.”

“Then I’m sorry we interrupted your conversation,” Leia tried instead.

The senator winced and looked anxiously at Senator Amidala, who was glancing at her colleague out of the corner of her eyes. The Naboo woman eventually sighed. “Senator Sadashassa, we both know things can’t continue the way they’ve been.”

“No,” Senator Sadashassa agreed. “But I’ve already explained how little there is that I can do to help you. Our cities may not, strictly speaking, be full, but our systems are overrun with people fleeing the increasing conflicts around the outer rim. We can’t process them quickly enough, even if we have the space for them. Eventually.”

Senator Amidala thought for a moment, fingers touching her chin as she stared at the ground. When she looked up, she smiled. “I know. And I know you have reservations because you feel Naboo isn’t doing what it should be to help.”

“I never said that,” Senator Sadashassa murmured.

Senator Amidala just kept smiling. “Didn’t you? I thought you had, in your own way. No,” she raised a hand, “don’t apologize. You’re right. I’ve been so busy with work in the senate, I haven’t coordinated enough with the Queen and her council, to make sure that matters are being taken care of properly at home. That we’re setting the right example.” Her chin came up. “If we create, and implement, a higher volume refugee program on Naboo and it succeeds, will you agree to be the next site to test it, so that we can recommend it to the senate?”

Senator Sadashassa smiled, her shoulders relaxing. “I’m willing to promise that.”

A feeling like sunlight rolling off of her, Senator Amidala grinned, “Thank you, Shea.”

As the two women bowed and shook hands, Leia felt the vice grip on her heart give one last, horrid squeeze, before the pressure released and she could breathe again. In that moment, as everything inside her expanded, she felt the world almost twist slightly, lurching from where the two senators stood holding hands.

_“I’m sending you to someone safe. Probably the only one who can help you actually fix everything. Do whatever is necessary.”_

Leia had no idea if this was right or not, but she knew, knew in her bones that now sang with the shifting sands of the desert, in her heart that now filled more space in her chest that it had before, that something had definitely changed.

_“And don’t look back.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Bail shamelessly encouraged Leia's rebel streak partially accidentally by trying to make sure that she knew every story he could possibly think of about her biological mother. Because even if she couldn't know she was related to Padmé, it would just be such a waste not to tell Leia all the stories.
> 
> Leia's greatest dream has secretly always been to meet Senator Amidala. She maybe a little subscribed to the conspiracy that Padmé never really died and was out there, fighting for the rebellion, somewhere.


	4. The Lap of Luxury

Naboo was green.

It shouldn’t have surprised Leia, but there was something about the greenness that stood out to her as the ship approached the ground. It wasn’t the dark, dusky green of Endor’s moon. It was-

It was more like the blue touched green of Alderaan. It was rolling hills and hints of mountains, and lakes and rivers that stretched for miles.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Shmi whispered reverently, leaning towards Leia as they both stared out the window. “Have you?”

“I-“ Leia stumbled (shattered in a bolt of green, blue then black and nothing). “Yes. I’ve seen places like this. I love them. They’re like home.”

The words were true, but the last one in particular tasted hollow on her tongue. Acrid and bitter in comparison to the sweet sight of Theed, and the generous senator that was standing beside the pilot, looking back at them and smiling. Senator Amidala murmured something to her guard and with surprisingly quick, strong strides came over to join her guests.

Leia was only a little envious that the senator addressed Shmi first. “Do you want to come up a bit more? There’s plenty of space. You won’t distract anyone and the view is lovely.”

“We noticed,” Shmi replied, still giving most of her attention to the view port. “If it isn’t any trouble?”

“None at all,” the senator promised, offering her arm to Shmi and walking her over.

They made their way forward and Leia followed, lingering behind. She heard the metallic scuffle of Threepio coming forward and her lips twitched as he caught his first glimpse of the planet and exclaimed, “Oh, how marvelous!”

Shmi and Senator Amidala both turned back with knowing grins, catching the expression on each other’s faces and chuckling as they turned back to the view. There was a pervasive serenity in the moment, and Leia could see that Shmi was much less anxious about this landing than the previous one.

Which was good, because Leia was more nervous, and doing everything in her power to hide it.

“We’ve got clearance, Senator,” the pilot said. “We’ll be docking soon.”

If it was meant as a suggestion that the passengers should get ready to get off, it was ignored. Senator Amidala thanked him, and pointed out the palace to Shmi as they approached.

“Anakin came with me here,” the senator was explaining. “Before he went to the temple to train. He, ah, accidentally got stuck in one of the ships and was in the middle of space before anyone could catch him.”

There was clearly more to the story. Leia saw it more in the face of the senator’s guards than heard it in her tone, but it would be worth exploring. For now though, it was just a relief to hear Shmi chuckle ruefully.

“He did always want to be a pilot,” she acknowledged. “He always talked about it.”

“The way he told it, he already was a pilot, even then,” Padmé answered with a broad grin.

Sadness struck, vicious and unsuspected. In the calm of that moment, Leia saw another pilot, another child of Tatooine. One who had wanted to be just like his father (“I’m a Jedi,” he had told her when he had come back from the Death Star, “like you could be.”), and who had been the galaxy’s greatest pilot those past four years. Brave and strong and full of promise.

Struck down by the horrible remaining fragments of the ruined Empire.

It wasn’t until Threepio said something that Leia realized she was crying.

“Mistress Leia, are you alright? Is the landing too rough for you?”

Stepping out of her memories with a force of will she was just starting to master, Leia shook her head and did her best to smile at the two women now looking at her. Shmi at least understood grief that could not be shared, and the senator was polite enough to ignore what wouldn’t be spoken. So when Leia said, “No Threepio. It’s just the light here. My eyes are adjusting,” there weren’t any awkward questions.

Which made Leia grateful.

And sad.

(They’d never know him, that bright and shining star in the universe, and all that he had done and become, and all he knew he could be, and she grieved for that, with bitter longing and remorse.)

The pilot announced, “Here we are,” and the craft glided to a gentle stop, lowering slowly and touching down with only the tiniest of shifts felt on the inside.

“Welcome to Naboo,” Senator Amidala said, looking first at Shmi and then to Leia. “I hope you enjoy it here.”

“We plan to,” Leia managed to answer, blinking a few times to keep any lingering moisture from leaving her eyes. “Thank you for inviting us.”

They disembarked without any mishap and with only modestly interrupted fanfare. While the current queen of Naboo was not in attendance, several of her court were, and they were clearly surprised to see that Padmé had arrived with guests. But years of practice and a very natural courtesy took over as they were formally introduced. An amphibious humanoid called Jar Jar Binks was particularly obsequious in his welcome, but it was such a cheerful, honest display that Leia felt only mildly annoyed and partially charmed.

It was Threepio’s comment of, “Oh dear, you’re not that clumsy fellow, are you? Please don’t get stuck in anything this time,” that cemented her opinion.

“Mesa not clumsy no more,” Jar Jar said defensively, and the looks on the faces of everyone else in the room pronounced this to be a complete lie. Leia found herself smiling as she extended her hand to the poor man.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Leia said, and was not surprised when he took her hand in both of his and shook it very vigorously.

“It’s a moi moi pleasure to meet any friend of the senator!” he exclaimed cheerfully, and Leia had to bite back a correction. She glanced a bit nervously at Senator Amidala, who smiled at the exchange.

“Thank you, Jar Jar,” the senator’s voice had the hint of a laugh in it. “I’d like to show them inside now, is that alright?”

The suggestion was met with true enthusiasm and the whole party made their way out of the large hangar lined in yellow fighters to enter the main part of the palace.

“I’ll need to report to the queen immediately,” Senator Amidala was explaining to Shmi, guiding the older woman along. “We’ll stop by the senator’s suite here in the palace and I’ll leave Dormé and Cordé with you and Leia. They’ll help you get settled.”

There was the faintest hint of concern as Shmi answered, “We’re staying here?”

It was probably covering outright panic, and Leia wished she could claim that was a Force reading and not just intimate knowledge of Shmi Skywalker.

“Just for a few days,” the senator said in a soothing tone. “Then I’ll take you to meet my family. They’re outside the capital, so I’ll need to finish some work here before I go and see them.”

Shmi nodded, and Leia noticed her hands twitch a few times, but nothing else.

* * *

The rooms they were settled in were gorgeous, with high ceilings and luxurious furnishing done in warm, neutral tones and sprinkled with hints of vibrant color. Each room of the suite looked out over a scenic snapshot of the city and sparkling water ways. The large windows did not open, and Leia assumed that meant they were also made with blaster proof glass, given whose suite this was. It was disappointing, she thought there might be a good breeze outside, but the rooms were comfortable enough to make up for it.

"Feel free to pick any of these," Cordé said, gesturing to the rooms on the left. "Padmé will be in the one over there, and either Dormé or I will be in the one next to her."

That left three rooms to choose from, each with a large bed, plenty of storage space, and a refresher attached. Shmi blinked at all the opulence and eventually walked into the room next to the one Leia chose, as far from the senator as possible.

After settling her very few belonging directly into the nightstand by her bed, Leia found Shmi in the next room over, fingers brushing the comforter on the bed, lips pinched into a tight line, trembling all over.

Her eyes when she met Leia's gaze were wide.

"I- I don't know if I can get used to this," she admitted, glancing towards the sitting room where Dormé and Cordé were talking, leaning close together and lips barely moving. Neat trick, that. "I'm not sure I like it."

Shmi had had a hard enough time on the ship, where the quarters were small and cramped if richly designed. So rather than disagreeing, Leia came over and plopped onto the bed, smiling. "I know. Isn't is awful?"

Her tone was a complete lie and she saw Shmi frown as she caught it. "I don't mean to be rude-"

"Shmi," Leia put her hand on the other woman's, "it's okay to feel uncomfortable here, even if what's meant is kindness."

She wished she could put more conviction into the words. There were showers here with real water. Leia was going to get to wash her hair, something she hadn't done in weeks. Part of her was thrumming with excitement and she wanted to share it with this woman who had shown so much kindness to her. Wanted to make everything right and comfortable on Shmi's behalf.

Unfortunately, "I just don't belong here," Shmi said, her fingers curling under Leia's hand, scrunching the blanket. "I don't belong here at all."

There was an unsaid, "You do," in Shmi's expression and Leia couldn't lie to it. She could only tell the absolute truth. "I want you to be comfortable here," she said. "And I'm sure the senator does too. So what would help? What would make you more comfortable?"

As soon as she said the words, Leia knew. So it was no surprise when Shmi started, "I don't think I need this much space…"

"Neither do I," Leia agreed, thinking of that mostly empty nightstand. "So we can share."

It wasn't ideal. Leia liked her space. And she wasn't sure Shmi would be comfortable with how little sleeping Leia was probably going to do. But if it would help her grandmother Leia would do it.

It would only be three days.

"Thank you," Shmi said, her hand turning over and gently clasping Leia's "I- I'm sorry I need it."

"I'm pretty sure I cried all over you within fifteen minutes of our first meeting," Leia squeezed Shmi's hand. "I think you deserve it."

* * *

Cold creeped in with the evening. Slowly, and not very invasively, but after the warmth of Tatooine, Leia couldn't help but notice it.

And notice that Cordé and Dormé, who took turns sitting with the guests and running errands, did not.

Leia wasn't sure what to do after dinner when the senator still hadn't come back yet. Her and Shmi's needs had been seen to. They'd even been politely offered clothes to borrow while theirs were tended to. They had both showered, and that had been an experience. An especially startling one for Shmi. But now that those ordeals were over, sitting around and waiting was starting to grate on Leia's nerves.

She was an active person. She'd been working hard for the past several weeks. She needed something to do.

"Mistress Leia," Threepio said, shuffling over. His joints made a scratching noise with each step and sometimes grains of sand sprinkled onto the floor. "I'm very sorry to bother you, but do you know how long we are going to stay here? I don't think I'm appropriately fitted for such a place."

Given the other spotless droids they had passed, Leia wasn't surprised. And sighed as she realized there was something she could do.

"Cordé," she called to the woman who was reading through what was probably an important report. The woman smiled on instinct as she looked at Leia, but there was an air of distraction around her that Leia knew too well. "Is there somewhere I can take Threepio to clean him? He needs a polish, and possibly an oil bath."

_Definitely_ an oil bath.

There was a moments delay and then Cordé said, "Of course. Let me go get someone. We'll have him seen to."

"Actually," Leia said, "I'd rather do it myself, if it isn't too much trouble."

Cordé frowned. It was only for a moment, but Leia caught the suspicious edge of it. "If you'd like. I'll ask Captain Typho to have someone escort you."

At least she hadn't added, "So you don't get lost." It would have been a clumsy redundancy to try and cover up the fact that Leia was not being escorted, she was being watched. "Please."

Something in her words made Cordé's eyes narrow and Leia nearly winced as she recognized her tone. Too… regal. She'd maybe taken the mistrust a little too personally.

"Oh thank you," Threepio said, making a jerky bow towards Cordé. "I do appreciate it very much."

Their escort was a woman a little older than Leia. She had dark, focused eyes, but an open smile. She chatted with Threepio as they walked, and the droid cheerfully explained where they had come from and the horrifying state of their original ship.

"I'm so glad that Mistress Shmi was able to meet Padmé on Herdessa," he said, shuffling along. "I don't know what I would have done if we'd had to get back into that awful contraption again.”

Their guard chuckled. "I imagine you would have been fine. Your friends seem pretty resourceful."

It might not have been a jab, but it could have been, and Leia was feeling very self-conscious. Thankfully Threepio was happy to keep talking and prevent any awkward silences. "Well, I'm not sure about that. I mean, yes, we did find a ship. And I did like the Rodians. Master Coq was a very nice gentleman. But that was the best we could manage. If that's what our good luck looks like, I'm not sure I'll make it to Coruscant."

"Coruscant? That's where you're heading?" A quick glance at Leia.

"Well, it was. I'm not sure now. Padmé said something about seeing her family, which sounds quite nice. Especially since we won't have to leave the planet, which seems very safe. But I think Mistress Shmi still wants to see Master Anakin, so I think we'll have to leave eventually."

"Who's Anakin?"

"My maker, of course. He assembled me several years ago, back on Tatooine. It was very kind of him. I'm sure I'll be very happy to see him again."

Leia didn't make any effort to stop the flow of conversation, but did keep note of what was said. She didn't think Threepio had any information that would be problematic, but Leia was not naive enough to think any scrap of this was going to be skipped over when their guard reported back to Captain Typho.

"Here we are," the guard said when they'd made it to a level below the ship hanger. "Should have everything you need over here."

She helped Leia to find some rags and showed her where the controls were for the oil bath. Leia checked with Threepio for what he considered optimal settings and then sat back while the machine did the hard work.

After a few minutes, the guard said, "You're not what I expected."

Leia smiled, her eyes closed. "I get that a lot." She cracked one eye open. "If it makes you feel any better, I often surprise myself."

Her escort chuckled. "I'm Rani," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against a wall. "I'll be honest, Cordé didn't mention if you're Leia or Shmi."

"Leia," the answer was easy, and Leia let her eye slip shut again. "And I'll warn you, I'm not the most surprising one."

"Really, because I never would have guessed you were from Tatooine. Is Shmi even more like this?"

"No," Leia admitted. "She seems more like she is from Tatooine. But that's why she'll surprise you." She looked over at Rani. "Have you ever been in the desert?"

Rani shook her head. "I wasn't part of the guard when Queen Amidala fled there. I’ve heard stories, but I'm pretty sure they're exaggerated."

"They're not," Leia said, shifting her shoulders against the wall. "They’re probably understated.”

A snort. "I doubt it."

Leia blinked at the ceiling a few times, trying to remember that first day on the planet, how everything was exactly like she had been told, and yet nothing like it at all.

"Can you imagine," Leia said quietly, "living under the light and heat of two suns? Of dawn coming twice, of a noon where the whole sky feels like it's a white sheet of fire? Two sunsets, and the earth doesn't start to cool until the second one hits the horizon, and for hours the whole world is bathed in red and orange? There's nothing green that grows, just rocks and dunes for miles and miles and miles."

It's warm, she wanted to say, but didn't know how to convey it. Not just the heat of the land that seeped through cloth and skin and clung to your bones. But the warmth of a people who lived like that, who held that level of burning and made life out of it.

"There is also quite a lot of sand," Threepio added as he came out of the bath, breaking the tension of the moment. "Most inconvenient."

Leia smiled and stood, striding over to where the droid wandered out of the bath, beginning to wipe him down as she bent and inspected his joints. "Definitely a lot of sand," she agreed. "How much is still in there, do you think?"

"I'm quite sure I don't know," Threepio complained. "Hopefully it will all come out eventually."

Nodding, Leia said, "You're moving a lot better and not making so many noises. Do you feel alright?"

"Oh much better, thank you. I feel almost like myself at last."

It had to have been hard, Leia thought, to be a protocol droid born on a sand planet. Shmi had taken very good care of her son's friend.

Polishing the grey metal was an unusual task. Leia had gotten used to Threepio without his gold plating, but cleaning him now she felt these coverings diminished him in some way. They were more appropriate for the environment he'd been in, of course. But she wished he were more like the Threepio of her memories.

Then again, if he looked more like himself, she might be more likely to forget when she was.

"Do you need any help?" Rani asked as Leia got about halfway through.

Looking at the guard didn't reveal anything about her intentions, but Leia suspected Rani was tired or bored. "If you want to, that's fine. But I don't need it."

It took another few minutes before Rani did walk over, picking up a rag and starting to work on Threepio's other side. The droid was unusually silent through the work, but the moment they were finished said, "Thank you very much. I feel much more suited to this setting now. Perhaps I won't be a disgrace to you after all."

"You're not a disgrace," Leia smiled. "Come on. Shmi is probably worried that we got lost."

"Do you think so? Mistress Rani is with us, so we really shouldn't be."

Their escort chuckled. "She's probably more worried we dragged you off to interrogate you somewhere."

"Oh my. That sounds excessively unpleasant."

"Don't worry," Rani gestured for them to follow her. "We don't do that sort of thing to our guests."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always surprises me how much I enjoy writing Threepio. There's something about him that is so refreshing.


	5. Blooms

Padmé was there by the time that Leia and C-3PO had been escorted back to the room. She was chatting happily with Shmi, and Leia exercised every ounce of her self-control not to be jealous.

It was just barely enough.

"You're back," the senator greeted, standing and coming over to them as Rani discreetly exited the room. "Threepio looks wonderful."

"Why thank you, Senator Amidala. I do hope that I'm not a blight on these surroundings."

"You're not," the senator's eyes twinkled. "I remember when you were still unfinished. You didn't even have coverings the last time I saw you."

"Oh dear," Threepio said, twitching slightly. "I was hoping you didn't remember that."

A series of beeps answered that lament, and Leia ignored the twist in her gut as Artoo rolled forward.

"I say," Threepio snapped. "That was quite uncalled for."

"Artoo," Senator Amidala's smile twitched, "please be polite to our guests."

He can't, Leia wanted to say. It’s not in his nature. Instead, she just smiled as politely as she could. There must have been something off about it because Senator Amidala added, "This is R2-D2. He's been with me for almost ten years. He's very versatile for an astromech."

Leia's droid had once belonged to Padmé Amidala. She wondered why her father had never told her. The swirl of emotions wasn't calming down, and rather than continuing to try and lie her way through, Leia answered, "They can be. I had one that looked very similar. He was a good friend."

In these more closed, intimate settings, Leia thought Senator Amidala might actually ask, but she just shook her head. "I'm always scolded for keeping him around. But he's gotten me out of more than a few tough situations. I don't know where I'd be without him."

"Well, I'm glad to meet you," Leia told the droid. And she was (and if she was also sad no one had to know why but her).

Shmi worked her way over with careful steps, watching Leia, questions dancing in her eyes. “Padmé was just explaining that tomorrow we could take a tour of the city. She said she would send Jar Jar with us, if that would make us more comfortable.”

Remembering Jar Jar’s fondness when he had been reintroduced to Shmi, Leia was more than willing to include him, clumsy or not. “That sounds lovely. Will we be on foot?”

Senator Amidala looked a little surprised at the suggestion, but gave it some thought. “You could. Since we’ll be here two more days I thought maybe you would wanted to see most of the city, but if you’re just interested in what’s nearby, walking would be fine. The pathways are lovely and all the major pedestrian routes are connected to the places people usually come to Theed to visit.”

“Shmi?” Leia asked. She didn’t have strong feelings one way or another. Theed was beautiful, and Leia would appreciate whatever parts of it she saw. But traveling didn’t have the same lure for her that it had used to.

Glancing out the window at the sparkling city lights, Shmi said, “If it’s not too much trouble, I think I’d like walking. I’m not really used to space travel. I’d like to have my feet on the ground.”

“It’s no trouble,” Senator Amidala promised. “We can have breakfast together, if you don’t mind being up a little early. Then when you’re ready, Dormé and Jar Jar can take you around. She knows the city, and Jar Jar can tell you all sorts of interesting things about the canals. All Naboo’s waterways are connected, if you know where to look.”

They agreed and if the senator was a little surprised by Leia and Shmi heading into the same room, she didn’t say anything about it.

Just like Shmi didn’t say anything when Leia woke up hours before dawn, curled up in the windowsill, and cried for the child she’d never have.

* * *

The main entrance was massive. Really, most of the palace had been built on a similar scale, but Leia could feel Shmi almost shrinking into the floor with the sound of each footstep as she stared up at the hugely vaulted ceilings and marveled. Leia was the one that kept Dormé talking about the history of the building, the meaning of the stone that had been used, the symbols that had been carved, the giant figures that guarded the way up the walk. She knew that Shmi was listening, taking it all in, and Leia was willing to be the social one who asked the right questions and even some of the wrong ones to keep things moving along.

They made it through the courtyard, which felt more like its own road, and out to an open plaza were Dormé stopped, asking where they wanted to go first.

Jar Jar was almost bouncing with excitement beside her.

“Do you have any favorite spots?” Shmi asked, finding her voice now that they were out in the open, surrounded by more normal looking people.

“Mesa love the floating gardens,” Jar Jar answered immediately, throwing his arms wide. “They is the most beautiful in the world. And wesa be addin some Gungan ones. Yousa should see it.”

Dormé looked a bit skeptical, but Leia thought it was probably more in line with Shmi’s interests to see new plants than to wander through historic buildings, no matter how beautifully built.

It turned out the attendant's concern had been more for how far out the gardens were and whether their guests could handle the walk. Leia tried not to laugh, wondering if it wouldn’t be Dormé who was the most exhausted at the end of this trip. Shmi simply promised, “It’s so fine out. I’m sure I could walk all day.”

It was excellent weather. There was more humidity here, and it was bright and warming quickly. But noon would be nothing like even the early morning on Tatooine, so they should be fine.

They were. It _was_ Dormé that almost melted. And whose feet clearly hurt. And who seemed out of her element as every question Shmi asked ended up being something that was more Jar Jar’s expertise than her own.

It was Jar Jar that fell into the construction of the Gungan zone though.

Leia was laughing as he popped up in the water, being smacked by the workers with long, flat reeds as he swam and then leapt out of the pond, shaking himself off.

“Mesa was no meanen to do that. Mesa sorry,” he informed them, but couldn't avoid the scold.

Thankfully, while he was still very clumsy, that was the worst incident of the day.

The rest of the time they wandered the carefully sculpted public garden, wandering through maze-like rows of climbing flowers, steeped with the sweet scent of the blooms, or crossing large expanses imitating grassy fields, swaying with wildflowers. There were stout bushes, trees that grew tall and straight, others that were gnarled and twisted in graceful shapes, some with sweeping branches, others that reached right to the sky.

There were several zones that were just plants floating on the water with winding stone paths or floating transports that glided through the scenery. Lilies and lotus blossoms and a variety of reeds, ferns, and vines were artfully sculpted and placed to dance and bob on the surface of ponds and streams.

Shmi touched _everything_.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she said for possibly the hundredth time, kneeling on the edge of a walkway, running her hands over the tops of some tall, seeded grasses. “It’s so soft.”

Breathing deeply to take in the warm smell, Leia smiled. “It’s not even the softest.”

“No,” Shmi looked startled. “How does it survive?”

“It doesn’t,” Leia was almost giggling now, not even really sure why. “Not in the wild. This is pretty and for everyone to look at. It grows nicely because there is plenty of water and nutrients in the earth. But out there,” she gestured beyond the horizon they could see, where a dense forest lay, “animals will find and eat it. Or people will, if it’s safe enough. It’ll survive long enough to sprout and seed, and then it’ll spread the seeds, or the animals that eat it will spread the seeds after they’ve digested.”

Running her fingers up and down some stalks, Shmi nodded. “They’re hardy. Where it counts.”

“Just like the desert,” Leia agreed easily, letting her own hand trail across the top of the stalks. “Each thing for its environment.”

That earned a worried look as Shmi stared at Leia and then looked down at her own hands. Touching her grandmother’s shoulder, Leia leaned in, closing her eyes and brushing their foreheads. “You’re a person, Shmi, not a plant. You can grow anywhere, if you want to. All it takes is determination and effort.”

“Learning from your environment,” Shmi suggested as she stood, looking at the plants all around her. At Dormé and Jar Jar.

“And from those who’ve gone before you,” Leia added, taking Shmi’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go past the Gungan ponds again. I want them to explain what it’ll look like when it’s finished.”

Soothing the Gungans and getting them to answer questions was a stretch of Leia’s diplomatic skills, but she pushed herself to be charming. They never warmed to the presence of Jar Jar, but were willing to answer Leia and Shmi’s questions, and to show designs for the swamp plants that would be floating on the water, and the walkways that would lead to sealed bubbles which would drop below the surface, revealing gardens from the Gungans everyday lives.

“Under the water,” Shmi was equal parts thrilled and nervous. The ponds and streams and the water moving to and through them were the only things she hadn’t been able to bring herself to touch today. “That sounds… magical.”

The Gungans preened, assuring Shmi that the project would be done soon, and then she could come back and see it.

“We’ll have to come back then,” Leia said, thanking them. She’d noticed Dormé flagging and started leading them away.

“Will we?” Shmi asked, frowning. “Be able to come back? I don’t think we can make that promise. I know they said it would be done soon-“

“We will,” Leia said. “As long as you’re interested. We can always come back here, no matter where we land. It might not be as easy as it was today, but if it matters, we can do it.”

With Dormé listening, Leia was hesitant to mention Coruscant, or any other possible plans. She didn’t want to pin Shmi down to a course of action just yet. Besides…

Besides, as much as Leia had lured Shmi out with promises of seeing Anakin, Leia was pretty sure her grandmother would _not_ like Coruscant. And she clearly did not like space travel. Not like her son did. She might get used to it, but a better option would probably be to find someplace beautiful and comfortable for Shmi to settle, then visit Anakin and get him to fly to his mother.

Leia could see Shmi being very happy living here, if she wanted.

“Would you like to have dinner with the senator tonight?” Dormé asked as they made their way out of the gardens, Shmi still touching plants as they moved. “Or when we get back?”

Looking to Shmi, Leia shrugged her ambivalence. The older woman asked, “Will she be as late as last night?”

“Not quite as much,” Dormé said. “But it will probably be a few more hours before she returns.”

“Are they working on the refugee plan?” Leia asked, interested. “Or is it just reports?”

“Both,” Dormé admitted, but Leia could see her reluctance, so she didn’t press. “If you’d like to eat with her, we can get something from the market on the way back, to tide us over.”

Local food was a weakness of Leia’s since she had been on the road so long and cooking was a dubious adventure at best during space travel. She still looked to Shmi for an opinion and could see a concern, but wasn’t completely certain what it was. Smiling and trying to convey her own interest while not overwhelming Shmi further was difficult, but Shmi eventually said, “The market sounds interesting. And you say it’s on the way back?”

“Yes. I’ll take you to the best stalls. Yané and Eirtaé used to sneak out all the time and get the Queen street food when she was up late working. It was her favorite.”

Leia guessed someone still did that for the senator on occasion, but it was probably easier now with not being royalty and having fewer risks.

They were watching Dormé pay at their third stall when Leia finally realized what had been bothering Shmi earlier. “We’re their guests,” she whispered into the older woman’s ear while Dormé was laughing with the woman handing over the food. “They feed us here or in the palace, it’s all the same. Well, the food’s probably cheaper here.”

Not cheap, and Leia could see Shmi’s eyes widening before she looked away, trying to cover a blush.

Wealth, opulence. These were not things of Shmi’s world. Even the well off on Tatooine lived in luxury of a different type and on a different scale. Naboo had the wealth of ages. To Leia, it was very familiar.

She knew she was spoiled. In many ways, over the years, she had paid for it. So when she could, she took the chance to enjoy it. Because tomorrow, it wasn’t promised.

She’d at least learned that much.

Jar Jar was able to lighten the mood on the way back, recalling Mos Espa street vendors and a fight he’d accidentally picked with a Dug Shmi knew. Apparently Anakin had saved him, and he remembered that with fondness, as much as he remembered the Dug with exasperation.

“Hesa was all bombad. So rude.” The Gungan waved the spit with his meal just under Leia’s nose. “Hesa try and _kill_ Ani in that race. Mesa couldin watch.”

Seeing the look on Shmi’s face, Leia opened her mouth to change the subject, but not before Dormé asked, “Race? What race?”

“Da pod race, of course.”

Dormé looked startled. “Pod race? What-“

“I don’t think,” Shmi said in a very controlled voice, “Padm- Senator Amidala mentioned the pod race to everyone.”

Leia certainly didn’t know about it, but she was definitely going to find out. Pod races were serious business. What had Anakin been doing related to a pod race and a Dug?

She had a feeling she wasn’t the only one who would be asking questions about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has left comments. I've had a few questions about how old Leia is. This story is set relatively soon after RotJ, so she's still in her early to mid twenties. Why am I not committing to an exact number? Who wants to be pigeonholed by something like cold, hard facts? Then people might have expectations...


	6. Forces at Work

Sunlight spilled through the windows and across the bed, tickling Leia's eyes and making her groan as she pulled the covers up.

"Too early?" Shmi wasn't laughing, but the humor in her voice colored the warmth already in the room and made it a bit easier to peek over the edge of the covers and smile.

"Maybe a bit."

Stroking Leia's hair Shmi noted, "You slept better last night."

"No dreams," Leia admitted, snuggling more into the bed rather than getting up. She should be getting ready, she knew. But it was so much more comfortable to just be here and forget everything.

And beyond the warmth there was the cold, and Leia didn't want to face it right now.

"Do you want me to tell them you won't be coming to breakfast? I'm sure they'll understand."

It had been a late night, with Shmi and the senator trying to carefully avoid telling the story of what had happened at the Boonta Eve Classic with Anakin Skywalker.

Shmi had summed it up for Leia in about a dozen words. "They needed money. Ani wanted to help, and he could fly."

"In a pod race."

"Yes. The Hutts put it on every year."

Which had told Leia a lot about the people that were in it. "You're both very brave."

Shmi's smile had faltered. "He was. I just… couldn't get in the way. Of him doing what's right."

And hell if Leia didn't know how that felt. It had been a million small moments, and that heartbreaking night on Endor ("That's why I have to go.") that had changed everything and nothing all at once.

("There's still good in him," Luke had said, and she hadn't believed it then but she thinks of a child on Tatooine racing for strangers and thinks maybe, maybe there still would have been some left.)

Sometimes, you just had to stay out of the way when it came to Skywalkers. They did things their own way and asked no one for permission. Well, they went through the form of asking, but saying no wasn't going to stop them.

Leia was a perfect example. “You can’t always stop them. Sometimes, you just have to watch and listen. And be there when they fall.”

Bespin. Oh, that special nightmare that was Bespin.

Shmi’s answering smile was a little wan. “Yes. Sometimes.”

The bed was still comfortable, but Leia forced herself up, taking one of Shmi’s hands. “Do you want to leave? I know Senator Amidala wants to show us around and introduce us to her family, but she’ll understand if you want to see Anakin.”

“I-“ Shmi looked out the window, blinking. “I don’t know.”

Squeezing Shmi’s fingers, Leia said, “Just let me know if you do. We’ll arrange something. And I know the senator will understand.”

“I’ll think about it,” Shmi promised patting Leia’s hand. “Now, are you going to get up?”

There was enough teasing in her eyes to reassure Leia, and to make the princess flop backwards, wriggling back under the covers. “If I don’t have to? Not a chance. I’ve missed this.”

“A giant sinkhole of a bed?” Shmi’s eyes were laughing, but there was tension in her tone.

“Sleeping in,” Leia corrected cheerfully. “After I’ve had a bad night.”

It earned a worried look, “You should have told us. Cliegg would have-“

“Whined for days and made snide comments about my delicate, off-world constitution,” Leia interrupted, not feeling the least guilty. “And he would have been right. There’s a difference between lazing in your free time and shirking when there’s work to be done.”

One brought a lot more guilt than the other, and Leia was already carrying enough of that.

Placing a brief kiss on Leia’s forehead, Shmi stood, smiling. “Well, don’t stay here too long. We’re going out again, remember?”

“I know. I’ll be ready in a bit.”

Sleep had already chased itself back during their conversation. Leia would curl up for a bit, watch the sun creep over the horizon, then make herself face the day. She just needed a bit of quiet first.

Jar Jar was immensely entertaining, but required constant observation. And they’d bring Threepio today too.

That would be a combination.

* * *

Senator Amidala was still there, finishing her breakfast when Leia came out. She was laughing at something that Shmi had said, and Dormé and Eirtaé were smiling, so it must have been good. Leia was almost sad that she had missed it.

“Good morning,” Senator Amidala greeted as she spotted her guest. “Did you have a good rest?”

“I did,” Leia made her way to the table, eyeing the food with satisfaction. Some of her favorite fruit was in season. “Thank you.”

The senator’s smile was more cautious than Leia wanted, but she knew she had been a bit of a standoffish enigma. It was just _so hard_ being in the presence of her childhood hero and knowing everything and nothing about her.

Leia’s father had talked so warmly of his fellow senator. The princess wished she could earn some of that respect.

“Dormé says you went to visit the gardens yesterday. Did you like them?”

Pausing loading her plate, Leia took the time to meet Senator Amidala’s eyes and smile. “I did. They were truly lovely. Naboo is a wonderful planet.”

“I think so,” the senator agreed. “It’s not much like Tatooine…”

It was a pretty delicate lead to the question she wasn’t technically asking, and Leia scrambled for an answer that she could commit to from now on. Finally, she settled on the vague truth. “I’ve been traveling for the last six years or so. It’s not much like Tatooine here, but they both have their charms.”

“And their slugs,” the senator muttered, then seemed to blush. “I mean-“

Leia studied the piece of fruit in her hand. “Every planet has some sort of life form that lives off of others. I’m sure Naboo’s just has less… spite to it. Than a Hutt.”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Senator Amidala murmured. “They have sovereignty, even if…“

“You don’t like it? Because they break Republic law and no one does anything about it?” Leia tried to not make it sound like an accusation, but apparently the words stung.

“I keep thinking we’re doing so much better,” the senator reached out for a datapad sitting next to her. “And then I realize there are so many more people who still need our help.”

“And your priority still needs to be the people of Naboo,” Leia added, understanding. “Because you’ve been chosen to represent them and their needs.”

The senator nodded. “I just have to believe there’s a way to do both.”

“The queen agrees with you,” Eirtaé pointed out. “She’s willing to help you work on it.”

That got a rueful smile. “Was that a subtle reminder that I’m going to be late?”

There were chuckles all around the table and the senator excused herself, taking Eirtaé with her.

* * *

“It’s not like you to be quiet like this.”

Leia smiled. “I’m pretty sure it’s exactly like me,” she said, turning from the window to focus on Shmi. “Haven’t you noticed?”

“You are quiet,” Shmi admitted. “But usually not this still. You have more focus.”

Driven. That’s what people had called her back in the rebellion. In the New Republic. Stubborn, Han had called it. Luke had labeled it power, and Leia…

Leia had always remembered it as purpose.

“I’m just thinking.”

“And that has to be done while you’re still?”

Trust Shmi not to beat around the bush. “No, it’s easier when I’m doing something.”

“So you’re avoiding thinking.”

Leia sighed. “Yes. A bit.”

Shmi didn’t answer immediately, just stared out over the city, watching the sky turn pink and orange as the sun set. It wasn’t like Tatooine, Leia thought. Not really. There was something so gentle to it, so soft it hurt. “Are you afraid of hurting my feelings?”

“What?”

Shmi smiled as she glanced at Leia. “You’d like to stay here. It feels like home.”

No, it didn’t. Home was people, the people she loved. And Theed wasn’t really like Alderaan. Mostly it was the politics. Leia couldn’t help but try and eavesdrop, to get back into the world she knew. To catch up with this one. She’d learned a lot in just the last three days. It was taking Padmé and the queen longer than they thought to outline a plan.

But she just said, “No.”

“You like it here,” Shmi insisted. “More than you ever liked Tatooine.”

That was a pretty low bar to set though. “I was adjusting to it. The sunsets were lovely.” Shmi snorted and Leia shook her head. “No, they were. Sharper than here, but still… something. Something beautiful. And sometimes the krayt dragons would sing.”

“Leia, that wasn’t singing,” Shmi frowned. “Is that what Owen told you?”

Hoping she wasn’t blushing, Leia said, “No. It’s just… that’s how I heard it.”

“Oh.”

There was understanding in that word and Leia tried to ignore it. “The point is I didn’t hate Tatooine.”

“I didn’t say you hated it,” Shmi was smiling again, like she had won the argument. “I said you liked it here better.”

Leia shifted. “It’s more like I’m used to.”

Shmi sighed, taking one of Leia’s hands. “We can stay.”

“I’m pretty sure that would disappoint Senator Amidala. She was expecting us to leave with her tomorrow.”

“You know what I meant.” That was Shmi’s mother tone. Damn, Leia had been hoping to go a bit longer being evasive. Then they might have been interrupted.

“We’re going to see Anakin. Our destination wasn’t here.”

“Maybe it was.”

Shmi didn’t subscribe to fate per se, Leia knew. But she did have a tendency to accept things exactly as they were that Leia hadn’t mastered yet. And was pretty sure she wouldn’t, at least not anytime soon.

“You brought us here,” Shmi added. “You found Padmé and led us to this place. Maybe there is a reason. Maybe we are needed.”

So Shmi did sense that. Leia closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel the hum that tickled across her skin, making it itchy. She’d been trying to ignore it, to be still like her brother had suggested (the most _useless_ advice he’d ever given her, honestly), but it had lingered and even festered as she’d tried to keep her thoughts reigned in.

She kept thinking about the refugee project. And how they needed someone with experience moving large amounts of people and supplies with limited and frequently breaking resources. Out of places that looked like war zones.

That hum seemed to have settled around Shmi as well, Leia thought. She couldn’t see it, or even quite hear it, but the pressure that it brought was heavier when Shmi was there.

They needed to stay. Both of them.

“But Anakin,” Leia whispered.

Shmi shook her head. “I’ve spoken to Eirtaé about it. To see what she knew about the Temple. It… doesn’t sound like family is encouraged to visit.” Actively discouraged if Leia’s own questions had gotten anything like Shmi’s answers. “I don’t want to distract him. Or worry him. He’s meant to do so much _good_.”

Leia had to swallow bile then as the image of Darth Vader crashed through her mind, his hand reaching as though for her face, and then a sensation in her mind like being pulled apart, shredded down to her component parts and foundation.

(Not again. Not again not again not again….)

“He could,” she whispered, trying to add hope to her voice and coming up flat. “It probably wouldn’t hurt for you to check on him though.”

There were times when Leia knew (with that part of her that had known Luke was her brother and Han was trustworthy and maybe even that Darth Vader-) that Shmi Skywalker was Force sensitive. Leia had no idea where her grandmother would rank in comparison to any Jedi, or how she compared to her own son. But she _knew_ things, in ways that went beyond the physical.

She had raised the most powerful Force user in the galaxy for nine years. That couldn’t all be luck. Leia remembered how much her parents had struggled with her when her abilities had begun manifesting.

Not that she’d had any idea what it meant at the time.

(Not in name, but she’d _known_ she was special, that she was lonely, that there was someone _waiting…_ )

(“Somehow, I always knew.”)

“He’ll feel better if I can tell him that I have a safe life and am able to travel,” Shmi said with certainty. “You said it yourself, we don’t have to be trapped anywhere. We can go elsewhere and visit here. Or we can stay here and visit elsewhere. And if this is what it’s like on the Mid Rim,” she paused. “Maybe I’m not meant for the Core.”

Not yet, but she would be. Leia would make sure of that. Shmi would be ready to face anything in the galaxy as long as Leia had any say in the matter. No matter how dangerous (and it was a little bit satisfying to think of Shmi Skywalker facing down Sheev Palpatine and demanding to know what he had done to her son, actually).

“I promised,” Leia said instead. “The whole reason you came with me was to see your son. So I don’t want to do anything that would make you doubt that.”

Shmi didn’t hesitate. Just looked right into Leia’s eyes. “I know,” she whispered, “that you will get me to my son. I have never doubted that.”

It was surety. Like the feeling that they needed to stay. To get their bearings. To establish a home base.

And Leia would feel much more comfortable not doing that on Coruscant, where the Emperor was.

“Shmi?” Both women turned to the voice in the doorway, realized that the senator was there. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

Glancing at Leia before she answered, Shmi said, “No. We were just discussing our plans. Did you need something?”

“I was going to go downstairs for some practice,” Senator Amidala’s hand drifted to a blaster that was currently sitting on her hip. “I wondered if either of you wanted to join me.”

Blinking at the invitation, Leia asked Shmi, “Have you ever handled a blaster before?”

“Cliegg taught me how to use their rifles but,” she glanced down, “not one like yours.”

“Then yes,” Leia told Senator Amidala. “We’d love to join you.”

“Leia,” Shmi was dismayed.

Bringing a hand to her grandmother’s face, Leia said, “You need to know this. I won’t make you carry one if it makes you uncomfortable, but if we’re going to be traveling on our own this is something you need to be able to do. I should have already started teaching you.”

Not that they’d had anywhere that she could have, but still. She should’ve thought of it.

“We have practice ones you can borrow,” the senator said. “Leia’s right. Even if you don’t regularly carry one, it never hurts to know how to shoot.”

“Personal experience?” the once princess asked, brows going up.

The senator matched her expression. “Oh, once or twice.”

Leia felt herself smiling, the easiest smile she’d managed since they’d arrived. “I think we’re going to be good friends.”

To her complete surprise, in addition to the sunlight warmth that came pouring off of the senator, there was a snapping tug as Leia finished the words, subtle but sharp. It almost made Leia miss Senator Amidala’s answer. “I’d really like that.”


	7. Stay on Target

The firing range was mostly empty except for a few of Senator Amidala's handmaidens taking turns at targets and offering critiques. Leia was impressed with their skill but had to stop her jaw from dropping as the senator did a demonstration round for Shmi.

"It’ll take a while to get accurate," she was explaining to the Tatooine woman when she had finished. "I've been practicing this for the better part of twelve years, same for pretty much everyone else here. So don't worry about shooting like us and focus on getting comfortable. Should we have her start on yours, since it's the one she's most likely to use?"

Leia almost missed that the last had been directed at her. "Ah, no. Probably not. It's custom, and…"

Not that that changed the basics, but Leia wasn't sure she could handle handing someone else her gun to fire it.

Not yet.

"Resized?" Senator Amidala asked, smiling. "I have to get mine smaller than standard for humans. Especially the one I had made for formal functions. It has to fit in some pretty tight places."

Leia pulled hers, holding it out for the senator to see. Her eyes widened as she looked it over, running her fingers over it but not taking it from Leia's hand. "Oh, wow. This is- I've never seen one quite like it."

Yeah, Leia had thought not. "I think we'd do better starting her on something more standard. Then she can really appreciate the difference."

Shmi was extremely reluctant as they went over the various safety steps and showed her how to take aim. Her first three shots were completely off the mark, but she managed to clip the edge of the target on her fourth after Senator Amidala helped her make some adjustments.

Leia just watched, letting the senator do the bulk of the work until Dormé asked if Leia wanted a turn shooting. She took some time with the practice blasters they had on hand before switching to her own, finishing with some of the trick shooting Han had taught her.

She counted it a success when she finished without crying.

"I don't suppose you could give some pointers on how to do that?" the senator was looking a bit envious, which was hilarious because Leia's accuracy wasn't anything to boast about on those last shots.

"I mean, having a thigh holster is a good first step."

Senator Amidala smiled. "I've got one."

Well in that case, "The next is to be more than a bit reckless and constantly in dangerous situations."

"Two for two," Dormé was smiling as she said it, but there was real worry in her eyes too. Leia filed that away to think about later.

"Then we can probably manage something. Full disclosure though, senator, I only recently learned it myself."

"It's Padmé," she corrected, reaching out a hand. "And if you're willing to even get me started, I’d appreciate it.”

"Padmé," Leia said, trying to commit her tongue to the new address. "If your parents don't mind me giving lessons, we'll probably have time for me to teach you what I know. If you'll give me some tips on being a dead eye shot."

"Practice," Padmé said, shaking her head. "Honestly, just regular, persistent practice. I lose that precision almost overnight if I don't keep up."

A snort from Dormé had Leia guessing that was a bit of an exaggeration, but she nodded. "Noted."

"Leia?" Shmi had wandered over after putting her weapon down. "Is everything alright?"

Senator- Padmé was blinking, but Leia realized something _was_ wrong. She was trembling slightly, tension all up and down her spine as she kept trying not to think. "Yes. Se- Padmé and I were just talking about getting in some more practice."

The senator was observing Leia more closely now and she had to force her muscles to relax, ease up. She didn't need… this. Right now.

"Did you have a good conversation with the queen?" she asked, opting for the first distraction she could think of.

Padmé smiled slightly, but hadn't stopped staring. "We did. It's only a basic outline for now, but she can take it before the council and start getting things to work. We'll need designated spaces, volunteers, cultural integration, probably imports of the most common off world day to day supplies… It's a lot, but I'm looking forward to it. Something to balance out all the work that's not getting done in the senate."

It was supposed to be a joke, but Leia knew her faced had morphed habitually into perfect sympathy with the sentiment. "There's a difference between a mandate to regulate and one to govern," she said, remembering her father's words on the subject. "And people can get into disagreements when they try and do both. Or neither. Or the wrong one."

Padmé considered that. "You're right. I hadn't thought about it that way."

"Wisdom I got from someone else," Leia added, rubbing her hands against her thighs. "Poorly restated."

"Any other wisdom to share?" Padmé asked, offering Leia an arm. "I could use some advice, second hand or otherwise. I think I've been slipping into bad habits."

They chatted lightly on their way back to the senator's suite in spite of the request. Padmé had some unique information on the architecture and history of the palace, memorized during her time as queen. It opened up new insights into the symbols of the building, and how it's very walls and pillars were a reminder to the government of their duty to their people.

"Beautiful," Leia breathed as they passed a statue of a long ago queen. "Practical, functional-"

"If someone's paying attention, yes," there was a touch of bitterness in Padmé voice. "The king before me had a… long reign. But not a terribly productive one."

Ah, one of _those_ monarchs. "What are you most proud of?"

Padmé frowned and took her time before answering. "It's hard to say. The easy answer is surviving the invasion of the Trade Federation, but I'm not sure that I like how I handled it for all that we did survive. Peace with the Gungans was good, and far overdue. But everything else," she shook her head. "I look back and think there were so many better ways I could have handled it. If I'd known anything."

"There's no replacement for experience," Leia noted, thinking of her own early exploits as a spy and rebel. "And often where you want to apply it most is to the past that was the price of the knowledge you gained."

Padmé laughed. "That's true. No, I think the thing that I'm most proud of was that when I came to the end of my term limits I stepped down, even though I was invited to stay. I think it was the greatest proof my ruling principles. And of what I had learned from the past that was my price."

They were back in the suite now, the night lights of the city glimmering through the windows. Padmé stopped and stared out, probably remembering something.

Leia withdrew her arm. "Thank you for sharing your evening with us. It was… a delight."

"I'm always looking for more practice partners," Padmé admitted. Then she turned to Shmi. "We didn't overwhelm you, did we? I know I can be a bit much."

Stepping forward, Shmi took Padmé's hands, held them for a moment, then leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek. The senator was startled, then smiled, blushing. "I don't think I'm ready to handle a weapon like that quite yet. But it's good to know my own limits."

"I'm sorry you're afraid of it," Padmé said, glancing over Shmi's shoulder at her handmaidens. "It isn't Dormé's favorite practice either."

Shmi waited until Padmé was looking at her directly again. "I am not afraid of the weapon. I am afraid of what I might do with it once I know that I can."

The slow and steady stream of shots that Shmi had fired flickered with new nuance in Leia's memory. It was certainly something to think about, teaching Shmi how easy it was to take a life.

It made Leia shiver to think that there might be this connection between mother and son. It had never occurred to her before.

"Well, hopefully you'll never have to," Padmé said, squeezing Shmi's hands before letting go.

Everyone said goodnight and Leia followed Shmi back into their room, thinking about how you made a good man into a monster.

* * *

Farewells at the palace were long and tedious. It was fun to see how much everyone there loved Padmé, but as outsiders to the traditions, it was a bit much.

"Yousa coming back soon, mesa thinks," Jar Jar was smiling at Shmi, shaking her hands forcefully. "We be goin again to da gardens. Thesa very grand and gorgeous."

Leia bit down on a smile as Shmi replied, "I would love to go again. And maybe sometime you can show me how to swim."

Jar Jar's eyes went wide. "Yousa no knowin how. Dassa bombad. We be teachin you moi moi soon." He turned to Leia. "Is yousa no knowin how to swim too?"

"I know how to swim," Leia reassured him. "I learned a long time ago."

The Gungan seemed reassured.

"I don't know why humans like to deliberately submerge themselves in water. They aren’t in the least aquatic, after all," Threepio was addressing Artoo, but he wasn't trying to be quiet. "What possible reason could they have for deliberately exposing themselves to so much danger?"

The series of beeps Artoo sent back sparked more bickering between the droids and Leia ignored it, staring out over the city instead. They probably would be back soon, but she found herself trying to commit it to memory anyway, memorizing each spire and corner with unusual precision.

She blinked and for a moment, everything was on fire. Buildings were crumbling, people in the street were running-

"Leia?"

Shmi's hand was on her arm. Leia trembled slightly under the touch, glancing down, then back over the cityscape, swallowing until she could speak. "Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything's fine."

It was. The sun was shining. The sky was blue. People milled about, laughter as common as the buzz of speech. Everything was fine.

(She dreamed of fire and her world in flames all the time, this was nothing, nothing.)

"Leia," Shmi was not fooled, but before she could press for more, Cordé had wandered over and was offering her goodbyes. The woman smiled at a few good shared memories and Leia and Shmi promised to get in touch if they were in the area again.

"I know that Padmé will look after you," Cordé's grin was a bit cheeky. "But would you mind also keeping an eye on her? She'll be at work every second that her parents aren't watching, and she really needs a vacation. Some time off to get away from it all."

A set of behaviors Leia was all too familiar with. "I'll hide her comm if we need to," she promised. "And we'll make sure she has lots of fun."

As soon as they escaped the farewell committee (Padmé had said goodbye to the queen in private earlier that day, and Leia was grateful because it meant Shmi was slightly more relaxed) they were hustled into a small transport and Padmé quickly collapsed onto one of the seats once they were inside.

"I always forget there are so many of them," she rubbed her eyes, then looked to her guests. "Sorry about that. Did anyone say goodbye to you?"

"All the handmaidens," Shmi answered, sliding into her own seat, gazing out the window, watching Theed fall away into a scene of frothing waterfalls. "A few of the Gungans. Jar Jar promised to teach me how to swim."

Padmé's reaction was almost as comically baffled as Jar Jar's had been. "You don't- Oh, of course. How stupid of me. I'm sor-"

"Threepio doesn't understand why humans deliberately endanger themselves by pretending to be an aquatic species," Leia cut in before the senator could embarrass herself further. "I don't know how successful Artoo was at explaining it to him."

It won the smile Leia had been looking for as Padmé turned to the droids. "What did he tell you, Threepio?”

"I'm really not sure I know. He said something about external cooling systems, which is ridiculous because they never respond that way to rain. And of course-"

He went on for a few more minutes, but Leia tuned it out, closing her eyes and trying to find her equilibrium again. She had almost succeeded when something bumped into her leg and she looked down to Artoo's flashing sensors, his beeps and whistles almost making sense to her.

"I'm alright," she said quietly, glancing up to make sure that Threepio was still distracted. "Just a bit tired."

She shouldn't have been. She’d slept pretty well last night. Not great, but well enough that she hadn't felt the need to sneak out of bed and weep silently at the window. She thought it might have something to do with Shmi's presence. Whether it was just having another warm body in the bed was more familiar, or that Shmi herself made Leia feel safe was impossible to tell. But the last few nights had been better than she had expected.

She didn't think it would last for long.

Artoo let out something like a low whine and Leia stroked his dome. "I'm alright," she said again. "Really."

"You seemed distracted earlier," Shmi said, and Leia couldn't stop a wince. "While you were looking at the city."

She said distracted in a prolonged tone, one that didn't outright say Leia had seemed almost panicked, but did lend enough emphasis she knew she couldn't get away with casual lying.

"I was a bit," Leia admitted. "I thought I saw-"

But the words wouldn't come. Lying to Shmi had always been hard. It was getting harder and harder as Leia realized that she _wanted_ to tell people what had happened to her. She just didn't know how to do it.

Or what the consequences would be.

"A memory?" Shmi asked.

It was a good out. But, "No. More like a vision."

"You have visions?" Padmé sounded shocked and this time Leia did manage not to wince.

"No, not really. I- My… brother did. Of a sort. I don't know."

"He was a Jedi," Shmi explained, and Padmé was clearly surprised. And then caught the past tense.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," Leia didn't need the pain that would come with sympathy. "I was just- It happens. Sometimes I see things and it makes me think of him, or how he would describe things, and…"

Lies, lies, lies, pouring off her tongue dressed in barest layers of truth, whispering through the cabin and making up a world that never was and never had been and never would be. So shapeless, but in one of the few places she could probably safely speak the truth all Leia could come up with was lies.

"When we were landing," Padmé said quietly. "You remembered something then."

A safe truth. "Yes."

"What was his name?"

Leia shook her head. "You wouldn't know him. He wasn't… not a Coruscant Jedi."

Close to the truth as she could manage. Padmé seemed puzzled and curious. Shmi asked, "Not a Coruscant one?"

"There are more temples," Padmé answered absently. "I don’t know much about them. They're not all the same. But most people, when they think of Jedi, they think of someone trained where Anakin is."

Shmi nodded.

Leia took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to push away the memory of a sky on fire.

"Leia? I'm really sorry, I wasn't-"

"It's fine," Leia cut Padmé off, shaking her head. "I just… loved him. That's all. I wasn't ready to lose him like that."

It earned her another curious look, but Padmé didn't press any more. She just nodded and looked back out the window, bracing her chin on her hand as she allowed the silence.

Leia had the feeling she had said something very wrong and couldn't for the life of her think what it could be.


	8. Courting Disasters

There was an edge of chill in the air as Leia looked out over the lake, trying not to think too much. When Padmé had mentioned her parent’s home, she hadn’t mentioned what it would be like. Probably knowing that it wouldn’t comfort Shmi much. The Tatooine native had smiled as she had seen the water, but there had also been real fear in her eyes.

Leia had managed a more composed look, but there had been a different fear in her heart. Not from the look of the place, but from the feeling that generated from it, warm and comfortable and welcoming. And gentle, which Shmi’s home hadn’t been, in that vast desert. It had been sturdy and warm and welcoming, but not gentle.

This place. This place felt like Leia’s home, and it had terrified her. Jobal and Ruwee had not helped.

They had been soft and warm and welcoming, and it had honestly almost made Leia sick. The lines around their eyes had matched her parents’, and the love that sang in the room as they welcomed their daughter had been a song so familiar it had almost driven Leia insane.

Not just because it took her back to trips to the mountains or visits home between her own senate adventures. But because that welcoming had been present every time she had seen Luke or Han or Chewie and now it was gone.

It shouldn’t keep surprising her like this, she thought. Them being gone shouldn’t creep up at odd moments and haunt her when she should be smiling or laughing and happy. They wouldn’t want her to be miserable, to be stuck in the past. So why was she like this? All strung up and with nowhere to go with these feelings?

“You don’t like it,” Shmi had never been far from Leia’s side since they had gotten here. Leia almost didn’t mind. “I thought you said this place was like home?”

“It is,” Leia agreed, fingers tightening on the stone rail.

Shmi’s arm came up and around Leia’s shoulders, pulling her close. It was… exactly what she wanted. And what she didn’t want at all. “You can’t carry it alone. Not forever.”

“I know,” she whispered, but it felt hollow on lips that couldn’t even speak the most simple truth. In another life, you were my father’s mother. And I never met you, never knew you, and he was destroyed. And you were too.

And so was Luke.

Luke was gone.

“I loved him,” she whispered, furious at how hard it was to speak it, those words that had always, always been true. “Even when he was never there. I always loved him.”

She hadn’t lived like it. She’d lived like she’d been born and bred, aloof and with no one to talk to about her deepest secrets. Oh, she could talk about her parent’s secrets, the rebellion secrets, carefully and cautiously because that was part and parcel to who she was.

But not her secrets. Not the nights she’d dreamed she was on fire and nothing could put her out, not dreams that were barely sight or sound and were more feelings, feelings that touched her heart and that sang until she had to be awake because she couldn’t be asleep anymore, listening to the sound that rang in silence.

She’d always had a ready quip (except for Han, he could always get her off balance), and so she’d teased the unknown figure for being too short for a stormtrooper and she’d been right but-

_“I’m here to rescue you.”_

It hadn’t fallen away. It wasn’t like a skin she could shed or scales she could rub off. It was her personality, her life. Razor wit, sharp edges, thin smile except for her closest friends. Keep them guessing and they’ll never keep up and you’ll be safe.

Han had blown through it with his smuggler’s grace, seeing what he wanted and going right for it, damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. Clear and concise and so patient with her for all that he’d pushed.

She’d loved him, for so long, and he’d always known.

Luke was sunlight in her soul, wearing away sharp edges, softening rage, illuminating those secrets she’d never told.

He knew exactly where they were, mirror to his own. He’d never touched them, but brought them to light and laid them out for them both to see and feel and acknowledge. To accept.

And he’d given her the brightest truth of all.

Brother. Twin to her heartbeat. Other half of her soul.

They’d felt distant sometimes, especially at first. But when he’d told her, when he’d said it out loud, it was like pieces of glass refracting to finally catch the perfect light. It was a shape she had seen in her heart, more by feel in that stubborn darkness, but as familiar to her fingertips as her own face and skin. And he had always been there. Waiting. Just like she’d been.

The other half of Anakin Skywalker’s legacy. The promise Vader had never kept.

“He said he’d come back to free the slaves,” Shmi had told her one night, as they’d stared up at the stars. “I guess I got impatient.”

Child of Tatooine, child of the sky, child of…. their mother. Whoever and wherever she was. Luke had never told her so she could only assume Vader had never mentioned it. Luke was good about making sure she knew the shape of the truth that hung between them, even when she didn’t want to.

She was pretty sure he knew she would have fallen if she had been in his shoes, slipped away from the light into darkness, for revenge and anger and all the hurt from when she’d been betrayed. He’d never mentioned it, but he didn’t have too.

He knew her heart too well.

And now he was gone and she missed him. It was as simple as that.

It took a few minutes for her to realize that Shmi had started singing, a low croon that was less words and more tones, some almost rumbling, some so resonant they carried even as quietly as they were sung.

Some of them reminded Leia of the cry of the krayt dragon, and she felt her heart singing with them.

(Sometimes she saw a blue sky and she thought of eyes, eyes that had seen the desert, and she wasn't sure if they were eyes she loved or eyes she hated.)

"Mistress Leia, the Naberries asked me to come and find you," Threepio could always be counted on to ruin a good moment. "They want to know if you'd like to join them for dinner."

Wiping moisture off her face, Leia said, "Of course. We'll be right in."

"Would you like me to escort you? I've been instructed on the full layout of the house."

Since it would be awkward to admit that Leia had already guessed most of the house's layout based on the buildings she had seen in Theed, it wasn't technically necessary. She had experience from infiltrating targets with limited schematics, and her natural instincts which she was starting to believe was an actual Force sense of where things were and weren't helped too. But it would make Threepio feel good to accept, and then she wouldn't risk anyone noticing and asking how she knew that the dining rooms were immediately above the kitchens, set at the back of the house. She had never been in before today.

"Please." She looked at Shmi to make sure the other woman was also ready, and had to resist squirming under that too knowing look. Eventually her grandmother capitulated and they followed Threepio back into the house.

* * *

"Padmé didn't mention she was bringing friends," Jobal said between bites. Her face didn't show a trace of accusation, but Leia allowed for suspicion from force of habit. "It must have been a pleasant surprise for you all, meeting up so unexpectedly."

"Mother," Padmé clearly suspected intrigue. "I told you what happened."

Jobal was still smiling fairly warmly. "I know. You mentioned you found them on Herdessa. And that you'd met Lady Skywalker before."

"Shmi is fine," her voice didn't tremble exactly, but there was a particular angle she had set her eyes at that made Leia anxious for some reason. She'd seen that look before, but she couldn't place-

Oh, Jabba's palace. Of course. Lovely.

Shmi continued. "We hadn't expected to run into Padmé at all. Our travel plans just happened to overlap. We're… very grateful. That she invited us to visit with you."

"You're from Tatooine," Ruwee seemed to be placating where his wife was probing, but Leia had seen her own parents use this sort of trick before. "This must be very different from what you're used to."

"It is," Shmi answered, but volunteered nothing else, taking a quick bite as an excuse to drop her eyes.

Weighing the pros and cons of any method of stepping forward, Leia decided it was time to intervene. "You work in the Refugee Relief Movement, don't you? Padmé mentioned you were the reason she had spent time there, before her election."

"I do,” he followed the topic change without much confusion showing.

"Then you've seen some number of Outer Rim worlds before."

"A few," he admitted, twisting his fork slightly as he let himself focus on her. "Not any like Tatooine though. We tended to do most of our work on planets that were similar to ours, to help ease the transition of the natives."

"And make transplanting them possible," Padmé added, a hint of sorrow in her voice. "For some species, even what looked like a good transition didn't work out as hoped."

Her father nodded, a hand coming out to cover hers. "True. We did the best we could, and sometimes it still wasn't enough."

"How are things now? Is Naboo seeing many refugees from planets being approached by the Separatists?"

As a distraction, it had been a good choice. When a few well-informed questions revealed not only her real interest, but depth of knowledge, Ruwee was more than happy to not only outline, but start to detail some of the work that he had been doing recently. It kept up a good flow of conversation through the meal, gave Leia desperately needed information, and allowed Shmi to lurk quietly in the background.

"The truth is, we have no idea how many more refugees to expect going forward," he admitted over dessert. "It doesn't look like the conflict will resolve quickly, in spite of the senate's promise."

"We're trying," Padmé wasn't quite snapping, but it was clearly a touchy subject. "Bail's got most of our coalition on board with plans for negotiating, but the-" She stopped, eyes flicking between her parents. "While we're working, there are also more hostile suggestions making their way through the senate."

Jobal's lips pressed into a thin line and her husband took her hand, squeezing her fingers before he looked back to his daughter. "The Trade Federation?"

"The Trade Federation, the Banking Clans. Honestly, anyone they do business with is never a sure vote on anything. Which is almost everyone important along any kind of hyperlane."

"And once you get away from the hyperlanes, you're looking at planets that are more susceptible to the promises of the Separatists," Leia mused, trying to grasp the shape of it. "And those on the lanes, if they get too much pressure from the Trade Federation or the Banking clan, they're equal odds to vote in line with them, or just defect to a government that promises to protect them from that kind of bureaucracy."

Padmé looked almost relieved to not have to explain it, which implied she'd been trying to get people to see those exact facts for quite some time.

And so had Bail Organa.

Leia very deliberately did not touch that thought, or any of the ones attached to it.

"How transparent are the trade and banking interests?" Leia asked. "Is it obvious what their motives are?"

"Theoretically, yes," Padmé sighed, “but in reality, no. At least, many of the documents are there, but we don't have people trained to go through them properly, or the funds appropriated to do an investigation."

"Something unlikely to happen if they have interests in systems in the senate," Jobal murmured, sipping her wine. "Not to mention if they aren't doing anything illegal, even a team trained to go through their records might not see the right patterns of extortion."

Not to mention that kind of research was boring. Leia knew how to do it, theoretically. It was a backwards extension of the kind of strategizing she had helped with in the rebellion. But she'd always been lucky enough to stay at a higher level, to analyze the data once it had been processed and collated. And they hadn't had too much to work with either. The rebellion wasn't large, not on the scale that the Republic was.

But, "If it would help, I could look over some of the public data and see if I can tease out some trends. If their influence is as deep as it sounds, that can't possibly be completely hiding it. Even if you can only prove some of the most obvious connections, it could give you leverage."

All of the Naberries stared at her.

"You… can do that?" Padmé asked, clearly stunned.

"You _would_ do that?" Jobal sounded almost awed. “Just… do it?” Leia sense there was an unspoken, “For free?"

A grin twitched at her lips. "All of my best work has been done for the reward of being on the right side." Her tone wasn't too dry, but she felt her own amusement rising. "I'm used to earning a living in other ways."

That made Padmé’s parents frown, but their daughter didn't seem disturbed by the admission. Just curious. "I didn't realize you had experience in these sorts of things."

"It hasn't come up," Leia said, leaning back into her chair. "I don't know that I can promise to be a quotable expert, but if you just need someone whose done enough paperwork, tracked enough supply lines, and knows what a thing is supposed to cost relative to local income averages, that I can definitely do."

Jobal moved as if to take another drink, but set her glass down. "You must have lived quite an interesting life."

"I've dabbled," Leia answered, realizing she was quickly headed for trouble. "I've traveled a lot, especially the last few years. Ignorance wasn't a luxury that I could afford, so I picked things up quick, and learned how to make use of them wherever I was. Moving freight was a pretty regular opportunity."

"And passengers?" Ruwee suggested, smiling a little in a way that was knowing, but also more friendly than before. "It seems like you have quite a bit of experience in getting people out of dangerous places in a hurry."

Her questions. She'd damned herself with those questions. Although…

Running through their conversation, Leia realized she'd implied some very specific, and frankly untrue, things about the kind of work she was doing.

Well, she hadn't technically been freeing slaves on the Outer Rim. But she had been working to free the galaxy from tyrannical slavery. Did that count?

"You could put it like that."

Something in the room relaxed then, and Padmé's parents exchanged a look. Jobal said, "Well, you are welcome to stay here as long as you'd like. We have plenty of room and access to the data you would need.”

"That's very kind," Leia said. "Only we promised Cordé we wouldn't let Padmé work while she was here. She was very insistent."

There were chuckles around the table. "Of course. Well, you are welcome here anyway. And if there is anything that we can do when you do get the chance to help, please let us know. We'd be happy to be of service."

They were right to be cautious, Leia thought as she excused herself and Shmi from the table, stating they were going to have an early night. Padmé could so easily be drawn into any cause. Even people with good intentions probably harassed her all the time, demanding things. However noble their principles might be, it was good to see that the Naberries valued their daughter, and were willing to evaluate her friends.

"That was an interesting discussion," Shmi said as Leia led them back to their rooms. "Will you really be able to help them?"

"I'm going to try," Leia said firmly, stopping by Shmi's door and peering inside as it was opened. "Will you be okay here on your own?"

Eyeing the room with a wry smile, Shmi admitted, "It's still very lavish by my standards. But it isn't a palace. It’s the home of a friend. So I think I'll be alright."

"I'm right next door if you need me," Leia said, and was surprised when Shmi's fingers pushed her chin up, gently holding her in place.

"And I am as well," she said softly, watching every twitch of Leia's expression. "Don't make yourself cry alone."

That wasn't a promise Leia could make. She always, always cried alone it felt like. But she remembered every one of Shmi's comforting touches and the warmth that came from someone just understanding and staying close, with no expectations.

She thought of the song, the faint aura of home and family that Leia had never been able to deny because Shmi was her blood and her grandmother and was just _good_ and would never abandon a lonely child lost in the desert.

"Tears are a waste of water," she said, and she meant to just be hushed, but it rasped more than she had intended.

"Tears are our greatest sacrifices," Shmi corrected, stroking Leia's cheek. "We offer them to those who meant the most. Who brought us our greatest joys, and with whom we want to share our greatest efforts. They are our life, Leia. Sometimes we must shed them, to share that life with others."

Huddled under her covers, Leia thought through those words over and over, tears slipping one by one down her cheeks. She should share them with Shmi, she thought. But then she'd have to explain Luke and Han and all that had been and never was and tonight she just still wasn't strong enough.


	9. Dabbling

The pile of files on the desk in front of her wasn't tall. Not anymore. But it did cover every available inch of workspace, as well as much of the floorspace nearby. Leia ought to catalogue them, input them into a database so that she could sort them more easily and in more patterns. But she’d gotten started here, and now…

As she scanned the latest document, something about it caught her attention. Ah, a link between the Banking Clan’s efforts in Herdessa and another system not terribly far away. If she was remembering correctly.

Leia reached down to her left, straining to pick up a datapad she had tossed that direction a few minutes ago. The toss had been a mistake. Yes, it had made it to the correct pile, but now she couldn't quite…

A tug, and the datapad slid onto her hand so quickly Leia yelped and dropped it, surging back up.

She looked around the room twice to reassure herself that no one had seen, breathed in and out a few times, closed her eyes, and firmly pretended that nothing had just happened.

Then she reached down and picked the datapad up.

"Do you think you'll be joining us for lunch?" Leia gasped this time as she dropped the datapad and blushed at the smile on Padmé's face. "Or have I caught you at a bad time?"

"Lunch is good," Leia said, ducking down and picking up the datapad for the thir- second time. "Just let me check something really quickly and I'll be right out."

The smile turned a bit more knowing. "Of course. I'll wait here for you."

Two days of this and Padmé already knew Leia would forget everything the moment she got back to work. Knowing Padmé likely had the same problem was the only thing tempering Leia's embarrassment.

She doubled checked the reference she had been looking for and was trying to find a way to note that the datapad belonged in two stacks when Padmé said, "You work very fast. I'm impressed."

And maybe a bit envious, Leia thought, eyeing the other woman through her lashes as she moved stacks around to balance the datapad on top of the two that it connected. That would have to do for now.

"This is just a preliminary read through and first impressions. To get the best results it’ll take weeks to sort out."

"So give me your first impressions. What have you noticed?"

Leia hummed. "Well, I have the distinct impression that I promised Cordé you wouldn't work."

"I seriously doubt you promised that. You seem much too reasonable."

Thinking about it Leia conceded, "I promised you would have fun. I suppose if I'm locked up in here with all of your toys, that isn't going to work."

Padmé laughed. "Well, then you'd better start sharing. Starting with that tower you were making just now."

They were swapping ideas and chuckling to themselves when they walked into the dining room several minutes later, arm in arm and heads close together. Jobal took one look at them, sighed, and smiled, turning back to talk to Shmi. It seemed she knew she wouldn't get anything out of them for a while.

* * *

"I didn't think you'd be back so soon," Leia said, stepping forward to give Padmé a hug.

"I thought I'd rescue my mother from having to entertain my guests by herself. Besides, they’ve taken our refugee plans to a council vote this week and I couldn't stay and watch. I'd already promised I'd avoid pushing too much on the issue, and staying…"

There was an aura of anxiety around her, but she was also cheerful. She was glad to see Leia, and that made Leia glad. "Well, can I distract you with data that might be of interest to the Senate?"

"Can I see Shmi first?” Padmé asked, following Leia. "Between the two of us, who knows if we'll even make it to dinner."

Leia chuckled and hoped that Cordé and the other handmaidens weren't upset with how much work Padmé had technically done while she was away.

They found Shmi out in the garden, helping Ruwee fertilize some of the plants as they talked. Padmé was swallowed in more hugs and just laughed when she realized some of the dirt had gotten on her clothes.

"I can always change," she smiled and smiled and Leia felt something loosening around her, responding to the love and the peace that was here.

Her father patted her cheek and chuckled when she batted his dirty hand away. "Shmi was just telling me about Tatooine moisture farms. Did you know, I've been thinking they might prove useful on some of the planets we'd like to settle? Ones on the edge of being resource adequate."

"It hasn't come up before?" Padmé asked, blinking in surprise. "It's a technique used in any number of systems."

"Commercially yes, but not on a local scale, like Shmi was describing. It's either a droid run production, or one or two small farms too far out from a city or a delivery route. I hadn't realized some planets preferred a more localized harvesting and distribution cycle."

Shmi was looking down at the plants, fingers twitching slightly. Leia asked, "What brought it up?"

Shmi looked to Ruwee who shrugged. "I was complaining about work. And how they love to make me solve impossible problems and not give me the resources to do it. Shmi has excellent ideas and makes me feel quite spoiled."

"You've been very generous with your home," Shmi said immediately. Her shyness had come and gone in fits and spurts around the Naberries. Leia was sad to see something about this conversation had made her nervous. "I didn't mean to disrespect-"

"No, no," Ruwee said, moving to put a hand on her shoulder and stopping as he realized it was still messy. "Truly, I'm very grateful. I'd appreciate it if you came and sat in on some of our meetings. We can always benefit from an outsider’s perspective. And I'm sure you can explain your experiences much better than I can."

Leia forced herself not to say anything as Ruwee continued to coax Shmi into coming with him the next day. It would probably even more overwhelming than Shmi was expecting, but Leia didn't want to discourage her grandmother. She may not have much in the way of formal education, but if she could prove useful in Ruwee's circles, it would open up a lot of possibilities for both of their futures.

"I'm surprised," Padmé said as they head to her room so she could change. "You're normally more protective of Shmi."

"I hardly think she needs to be protected from your father," Leia answered.

Padmé bumped into her shoulder. "You know that's not what I meant."

"I know," Leia tucked her hands in her pockets, her gaze falling to the floor. "If she panics, I'll just have to go and rescue her. But I think your father can handle her. And it'll be good for her to get out. She needs more friends than just me."

There was a hum of agreement. "Are you planning on staying here then?"

"I think we've trespassed on your parents' generosity quite enough. We'll head back to Theed soon, once I've finished my preliminary report and you have something you can take back to Coruscant."

"You weren't planning on coming with me?" Padmé seemed torn between surprise and something like hurt. "I mean- I thought your destination was Coruscant. You'd be perfectly welcome-"

"At the Jedi temple?" Leia tried for more genuine curiosity that skepticism, but she wasn't sure she managed it.

"Well, maybe not there," Padmé admitted. "I mean, they won't tell you that you can't come in. At least, not to the public facing parts. And if Anakin and Obi-Wan are on planet, they might choose to come and see you. I just don't know…"

"You don't know if Anakin would come," Leia said calmly, pushing away visions of a stranger dressed in black. "If he would want to see his mother."

They'd reached her room and Padmé used the time to pick out a new outfit to think before she answered. "I haven't seen him at all," she admitted. "Not since he was in Theed. I know the Jedi are discouraged from attachment, that they don’t, as far as I know, see their families once they're taken in by the temple. And they're taken pretty young. I think most of them consider the temple and the Jedi their real home."

Swallowing distaste at the idea (she couldn't imagine voluntarily leaving her parents) Leia said, "So it's anyone's guess how well Anakin's managed to adjust. And if he is… well adjusted, how Shmi showing up will make him react."

Padmé nodded, stepping out of her dress and hanging it were it could be spotted and cleaned. "I don't want to discourage her. For all I know, he'd be deliriously happy to see her. It's very possible he's been missing her all this time and worried about what's happened to her."

Pretty likely, Leia thought. If- If Vader's obsession with family was anything to go by, a less evil form of that would likely have led to him being very concerned about his mother. "Would it- would it be better if you contacted him first? Or would that be taboo?”

"Taboo's an interesting choice of word," Padmé fumbled at the back of her dress and Leia came over, helping close it. "I don't know that I've ever thought of it like that. They're just so distant. Even the senate members usually liaise with them through specific Jedi selected for that purpose. It was odd that Chancellor Valorum had asked Master Qui-Gon directly to intervene for us. Most politicians aren't that close to a Jedi."

"Qui-Gon?" Leia asked, stepping back.

Padmé floundered for a moment. "Qui-Gon Jinn. The Jedi that was with me when I met Shmi and Anakin. He was Obi-Wan's Jedi master."

Trying to sort through memories, Leia asked, "His only one?"

"I think so. I don't usually think they have more. At least once they’re older and apprenticed. He probably had other teachers when he was younger. I'm not really familiar with all their practices."

"Do you know who would be?"

"The Jedi," Padmé suggested, smiling at Leia through her mirror as she wiped her cheek. "I'm sure we have something in our library about the Jedi history, but I don't know that it would have a lot of details about their current day to day life. They’re pretty sequestered in the temple. It's a lovely place, but they like their peace and quiet. It probably helps them to meditate and feel the Force."

Which sounded good for beginners, but Leia wondered how overwhelming it was for Jedi apprentices to suddenly step out of their quiet, peaceful little world and into the wide galaxy. And how much they struggled to hear the Force as they made the adjustment.

Or maybe it was easy and Leia was just bad at it because she'd never had enough peace and quiet to learn to do it right.

"Leia?"

"Sorry, I drifted. Did you still want to see those plans?”

She wouldn't make any decisions right now about what they were going to do about Coruscant. They’d already mostly decided to stay. Leia would talk with Shmi in the morning and see if she could meditate on things tonight.

For now, she had a war to sabotage.

* * *

Running through combat exercises was more uncomfortable here at the Naberrie's home than it had been on Tatooine or even at the palace. But Leia knew she couldn't afford to slip, so she did it anyway, waking up extra early and finding a clear balcony away from the bedrooms. She was usually done before Shmi got up.

When she wasn't, she made the woman run some drills with her. Maybe not strictly necessary, but Leia wasn't going to let anyone take Shmi without a fight.

"Are you always up this early?" Padmé had come out, dressed in her nightgown and a robe. She was blinking sleepily but seemed pretty impressed.

"Not always. But often, yes."

More now than when she was younger. Even in the rebellion, she'd always timed down to the second to get the most possible sleep.

Now, every not waking moment was the possibility of a dream. And she'd had more than enough of those.

"I'm not familiar with that style."

"It's eclectic," Leia confessed, finishing a few punches and rounding it out with a kick. "I picked up what I could from whoever would teach me."

"Did they tell you your opponents would be taller all the time?" the wry tone was clearly inviting Leia to share a joke.

"Oh, they did. I just nodded and didn't point out all the ways that would put me at an advantage." They shared a chuckle and Leia moved into cooling down with some stretches. "When do you practice?"

Padmé looked sheepish. "Not often enough. I try and compensate by always having a blaster on me. A full routine is harder to hide from my parents, and the blasters make them nervous enough."

"I noticed," Leia said, her voice dropping as her hand instinctively moved to the empty spot on her thigh. "I take it they thought you being queen would be a much more ceremonial experience."

Nodding, Padmé jumped up to take a seat on the railing. "They were very unhappy about how it all turned out. And then the queen asked me to fill the spot in the senate and they realized I would regularly be working around the Trade Federation again and… I try not to rub it in their faces that I feel much safer being prepared."

"They never wanted you to have to fight," Leia remembered her own fights with her father in particular as they'd argued over whether she could run for Alderaan's senate seat. "They wanted you to be upright and moral and hoped it would be in a world where they wouldn't have to be afraid of the cost."

"Speaking from experience?" There was real curiosity there, but Leia knew Padmé wouldn't push. She could be stubborn, but she did seem to know what boundaries were.

"Of a sort."

* * *

"It's been so nice to have you with us," Jobal said, embracing Leia and giving the kind of motherly hug that still almost reduced the princess to tears. "Thank you for staying. And for helping our daughter."

"It was our pleasure," Leia promised, carefully placing a kiss on Jobal's cheek and making sure to keep smiling. And to hold that smile in her eyes. "Thank you for keeping us for so long."

"You've been a great help," Ruwee had already shaken Shmi's hand, but looked ready to do it again.

The Tatooine woman looked down for a moment, but managed to meet his eyes again. "I hardly did anything."

"Your experience was a great help. And an education for our younger members. They don’t really know what it’s like to lose a home. Or to have one that demands so much from you. Thank you for sharing your story."

Now Shmi did looked ashamed. "I didn't share all of it."

"We could hardly ask that of you," Ruwee was firm as much as he was gentle. "That you are willing to share at all, when you owe us nothing, is already a gift."

They'd talked, Leia knew, about what Shmi planned to do after this. She wanted an education. Her exposure to the Naberries hadn't obliterated her sense of self-worth, but highlighted areas where she was different from these people. From Leia, who could step into their circles so easily and comfortably. They would find a school in Theed, Leia was sure. There were already a number of refugees there, and more incoming. It was almost inevitable.

"Come back soon?" Jobal asked, taking a hand from each. "We've enjoyed having you here so much. Maybe next time Sola and her family will be able to join us."

Pooja, Leia remembered. This was Pooja's family. It would be… disconcerting to see her friend as a small child. She had to be quite young, if she was even born yet. "We'd love to meet them," she managed to say, still smiling. Keeping the smile in her eyes.

Eventually they finished their goodbyes and followed Padmé to her transport. "Thank you for indulging them," the senator said, finding her seat. "I don't usually bring guests. I think they're relieved to know I have normal friends."

Choking on a snort, Leia had to bring a hand up to cover her smile. Padmé noticed, but only smiled back. It was Shmi who said, "We're normal? We don't even live here."

"I think she means we aren't dangerous," Leia supplied. "Not politically magnetic."

Frowning, Shmi asked, "Were you not doing political work?"

"Technically, she was,” Padmé answered. "But since she was functioning more as a civilian consultant, to them it doesn't count."

"Civilians know those sorts of things?" Shmi sounded almost more skeptical than confused.

Her question surprised Padmé too. "I… guess. Where did you learn all that?"

It was more than a little worrying that this was the first time that Padmé had really thought to ask that question. And awkward, because answering in a rebellion to overthrow the galactic government wasn't going to fly here. "In roles not usually filled by civilians," she admitted, aiming in her posture as much as tone to be casual. "There was civil conflict on some of the worlds that I lived on. I helped… organize things."

Well, now she had an uncomfortable amount of both of their attention.

"Any good stories?" Padmé asked, and Leia wondered if the senator was deliberately mirroring Leia's casualness, or if it was just on instinct.

It would have worked if Leia weren't trained to notice. "A few. But some of the situations are still a bit delicate."

"Separatists?" Padmé asked, not accusatory, but suddenly razor focused.

Leia shook her head. "No. Not Separatist conflicts."

That movement was long dead by the time Leia had started her career of espionage. Or rather reborn, from the ashes of the world that Palpatine had destroyed, nurtured by those that had once been enemies and were then reluctant allies.

Oh, it _hurt_ to think about that. About all the work that her father had done, and her mother, those early years of her life. Work that had all come to nothing because she hadn't been ready, been good enough-

"Leia?"

Shmi's eyes held hers, and Leia realized she had drifted, her hands had tightened into fist, her breathing coming quick and sharp. She glanced at Padmé and saw that her friend was seriously worried.

"I'm alright," she whispered. "It's all in the past."

Or the future. But she would do whatever was necessary to make sure it didn't happen again.

_"And don't look back."_


	10. Settling In

They'd been in the bureau all morning, slogging their way through paperwork. Padmé had offered to stay with them, but it ended up being Jar Jar that was their escort, smiling and humming since they had chosen to stay on Naboo.

He was actually quite a bit of help. Most of the paperwork they were going through was a rework from when the Gungans had been officially added to the census and citizenship records. He was familiar with the nuances of Naboo bureaucratic language in ways that left Leia frankly stunned.

"Isa from bein da royal expert," he explained proudly when he helped Leia completely sidestep a superfluous section. "Mesa bein good friends wit da queen, dat is. She explained it moi moi times so mesa can be helpin wit it. Since da oder Gungans were sussspeecious."

"I don't see why there needs to be so much paperwork for me," Threepio complained as Shmi struggled her way through the forms. "It's not like I'm an organic. I can't carry disease or parasites or anything."

"Can though," the worker helping them, Cleo, looked up from reviewing Leia's documents. "Some critters like living in wiring quite a bit. But that isn't what these are for. Droids are something between property and employee. We need to make sure they're documented correctly in case they're ever stolen. So they can't be wiped and taken off planet."

Shmi looked up. "Is that common?" Her hand was creeping towards Threepio.

Cleo shook his head. "No. At least, not losing them off planet. Naboo is peaceful, but we have an average rate of crime for a mid-rim world. We're a convenient stopping place for higher end smugglers at the very least. But you stay away from the ports, if you don't know what you're doing, and you'll be alright. Besides," he eyed Threepio critically, "I doubt anyone would take him. He's not exactly prime resale value."

"And how would you know that?" Leia asked sweetly, tapping her finger on the table to catch his attention.

He seemed to understand the exact implications of her smile. "My brother's in that work. Law enforcement," he added when Leia's smile got sharper. "He keeps me up to date. Refugees make good targets. I pass along what he knows, just in case it can help."

She was relaxing back into her seat when Leia realized she knew, _knew_ he was telling the truth. And was a little bit proud of herself. Because she also knew that she was getting that answer from the Force, and she was conscious of it. Which was a slight step above just believing she had a really good gut sense of who was honest and who wasn't.

"Yousa be worried for da droid?" Jar Jar asked, looking at all three of them, his pride replaced by anxiety. "Hesa noah problemo. Mesa promise."

It occurred to Leia that she was missing things when it came to Jar Jar Binks. He wasn't _stupid_ all the time. He had a strong sense of self preservation and some of that even extended to people around him that he cared about. He was clumsy, as Threepio had noticed, but Leia got the impression it was because when danger didn't register he just didn't worry about stuff.

He seemed to waver between being incredibly self-absorbed and frighteningly observant.

"Threepio knows not to get himself into trouble," Leia said, watching to see how Jar Jar's expression changed. "And I imagine he was built with more than a few tricks to get himself out of it, if he needs to."

"He's custom built?" Cleo seemed a bit awed. "Most people don't go for a protocol droid for something like that. It's rough stuff."

"I didn't build him," Shmi said gently. "My son did."

Cleo looked between her and Leia in confusion, then nodded. "Right. Well, he's a smart guy."

"He was a precocious child," Threepio complained, "and he left me unfinished. I don't know what I would have done if Mistress Shmi hadn’t found covers for me."

Leia avoided Cleo's gaze and pretended to be working on the last of her documents. She knew he wouldn't get anything else from Shmi either.

Jar Jar though, "Ani was _ahways_ gettin heself in big dudu. But hesa always be gettin oudda it. Das nutso."

"Thank you, Jar Jar," Shmi did seem to be reassured. Which was good. The last thing Leia needed was to have to explain that they were unlikely to be targets of crime because she wouldn't allow it.

That would require more than a little too much explaining.

"These look good," Cleo said, handing Leia her documents back. "I just need your full name and you’re finished.”

Leia had entered her first name and was about to start her family one when she froze.

Right. She couldn't use Organa here.

She could use Solo, she thought, swallowing the wave of grief that brought. Han- Han wouldn't have minded. He probably would have laughed about it, actually.

But taunting herself every single day with that reminder of things that hadn't quite been seemed a quick way to drive herself mad. And she couldn't borrow a name from most of the people she knew well. They were connected to people that were real and alive and probably even in positions of power here. She couldn't risk it.

And.

And this was going to be her _name_. What people here would call her forever. It wasn't a temporary identity, it was her new self. The one that would change the future, the past.

A hand covered hers and Leia looked at Shmi, knowing there was despair in her eyes. "I-"

"You left it behind," there was no condemnation in the words, just simple understanding. "It belongs in the past. This is your future."

Lars, Leia thought. She could try Lars, Shmi would understand. She could have been a Lars, actually. If her father had taken Luke and she'd gone with Obi-Wan. Maybe, maybe she should be-

"I know," Shmi's fingers tightened painfully, her eyes dropped for a moment then met Leia's again. "I know it might be a bit much to ask. But if you wanted, if you need," a very, very deep breath, "out here, you and I are family."

Tears, Leia realized. The feeling on her face was tears. Longing and hope and despair, and when Shmi looked embarrassed and ashamed Leia could only squeeze her fingers back and say, "Please. You're sure?"

A calloused hand cupping her cheek, brown eyes that sometimes reminded Leia of her own. A hesitant but firm smile. "I've always been sure. Was ready to offer."

With Shimi watching, Leia took a deep breath, hands trembling slightly, and entered the name. And then stared at the datapad in front of her, Shmi’s hand covering hers, feeling her world shift until it was completely upside-down.

Leia Skywalker.

Tonight was going to _hurt_.

* * *

The view of the city was very different outside the palace. Not ugly. Leia wasn't sure you could find a spot in Theed that was actually ugly. But you saw more stone walls and less night sky from their current residence.

Leia sipped at the drink in her hand, the back of her mind classifying its probable origin, quality, and potency, the front of her mind wishing it was stronger and could make her forget.

Tonight was worse than she had thought.

_"Leia."_

It was the faintest echo when she let her mind wander. The memory of a memory from a now obliterated spot in time. It rolled on and on in her senses, even when she wanted it to stop.

But it wasn't as bad as the dreams.

He had been there. Just for a moment, but he had been there. And smiled, so happy to see her.

And then was gone.

Smothering the sound with her hand, Leia choked on a sob, pressing up against the window and searching for comfort against the cool glass, unable to ignore the tears running down her face. They dripped, and carried with them only the smallest portion of her pain and regret.

Feeling a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, Leia glanced back to see Shmi there, staring out the window instead of at Leia's face. A much needed mix of privacy and comfort. Leia leaned into the arms that offered support and forced herself to face the truth. To let the memory come, of that moment she had been sleeping and suddenly her brother had been there, close enough to touch.

And then he hadn't.

Shmi didn't say anything. Not even when the sky paled and the sun promised dawn.

* * *

"I have no idea what I'm doing."

The admission hurt, but she had to say it. To make it real not just inside but also outside of herself.

"You're doing fine," Shmi countered, coming up behind her and guiding her hands. "You just can't let it stick to the bottom of the pan."

That made sense. It made perfect sense. It was logical and it made perfect sense. Leia still struggled to wrap her mind around it, to not lose focus when what she wanted to do was wallow in her failure and throw the whole thing out a window.

"Practice," she muttered under her breath. "Some things just take practice."

Luke could do this. Han could do this. Chewie could do this. Leia was technically capable of doing this, she knew. More than adding hot water to instant meals. On one or two occasions she _had_ done it. Highly supervised, but she had done it.

The problem was Shmi kept wandering off and leaving her alone to do it. And that was where Leia fell apart.

"I'll have this one," Shmi looked at the mess Leia had made in the pan and smiled. "You have the next one. It'll be better."

It was worse. Leia couldn't justify making Shmi eat her nasty food if Leia wasn't going to be more hurt by the experience. "I don't know why I'm doing this," she grumbled, poking at the charred mass in front of her that was smothered with jam.

"You can try again tomorrow," Shmi said, still smiling. "Don't worry, Anakin was this bad when he started too."

Leia knew her expression was completely deadpan. "He was what, four?"

Teasing was a good look on Shmi's face. It made her seem bolder, younger. "About that, yes."

Leia groaned.

* * *

"Is she dead?" Padmé's voice shouldn't have sounded so amused.

Leia cracked an eye open to glare at her friend, who only waved in response. "I am not dead."

"She's been working on our speeder," Shmi said. "And complaining about not having experts to help with the work."

"You can't have it fixed?" the question was careful, knowing it was intrusive but unable to avoid voicing the concern.

Flexing her stiff fingers, Leia said, "No, we could afford it if that's what we needed. I'm just not used to flying something so… poorly managed. There's been no upkeep on it at all and I'm trying to replace bits before it does become a problem of us falling out of the sky. This just isn't my area of expertise."

She knew the names of all the parts. At least the basic ones. And funnily enough she knew a good amount as far as brands for replacements. Han and Luke had both worked with outdated equipment, which fit in very well here.

No, the problem was she really, really, _really_ had been spoiled when it came to ships and all things mechanical. Her family had taught her as much as she had been interested in absorbing, but it had been about basic maintenance, not fine tuning and customizing. She was missing that level of expertise while she was basically trying to rebuild the inside of a speeder from scratch, piece by piece as she thought she could afford it. Until it _felt_ right.

She'd always known they were gifted. She just hadn’t known how much she'd relied on that.

Padmé still looked worried. "If you need something in better condition…” She bit her lip, looking between the two of them, shifting slightly.

"We're alright," Shmi knew exactly how to make someone relax with one of her smiles. "Leia is just picky about her transports."

Spoiled, Leia rubbed her head and ignored the pain in her hands. She was spoiled. This, this was why no one took her seriously. Ever.

"Well, if you're up for just listening to boring information, I can fill you in on how our committee is handling what you found."

Leia immediately sat up. "How'd it go?”

Padmé sighed, taking a seat and her own turn to rub her head. "Not very well. We induced some panic, which is definitely a change, but not responsiveness. I mean, not overall. Bail and I, Bail Organa," she added (and Leia didn’t flinch and counted that a win), "the senator from Alderaan, were able to get things calmed down a bit. And to point out what it really meant, beyond conspiracy. The problem is-"

"It's all legal." Leia had been doing reading, spending her downtime when she wasn't working or wasn't repairing things for their home at the local libraries and on the holonet. Trying to catch up on recent events and refamiliarize herself with pre-Imperial law. "Technically."

"It's going to be a job and a half to get more subcommittees formed to looked deeper into it, then to get the information out to the main body of the senate, then to get them to agree that our recommendations are the best course of action…"

"The only good news being with how long the first bit will take, you can take initiative on presenting plans for moving forward."

"If we can get our act together, yes." Padmé accepted a cup of tea from Shmi and Leia gave her a moment to just enjoy it.

One always spared a moment for Shmi's tea.

When the senator had savored a few sips, Leia asked, "What else?"

Padmé winced. "Queen Jamillia also wants me to make a push for the new refugee program. It's technically already been implemented here, but she wants me to ask around in the senate and find optimal systems to test it on. Places that have been affected by the Separatists."

"That's a lot to ask," Leia murmured, accepting her own cup of tea from Shmi and taking her own time to savor it. "Is that even the best place to get started?”

"No," Shmi said. Leia and Padmé stared and Shmi blushed. "I mean, I don't think so."

Padmé put her cup down. "Why?"

"I just…" Shmi faltered. "They’re supposed to stay with you, right? You want them to come back? So rather than separating them out, shouldn't you be focusing on people that have more, more-"

"Permanent problems?" Leia suggested. Shmi took a moment before she nodded.

Padmé's hand came up to her chin, her fingers tapping again her lips. "That makes a lot of sense. Not that we want to forbid people who feel they have to flee from a Separatist system, but it would be better to encourage them to stay, because the Republic is willing to negotiate."

"And then you won't risk as much malice in local sentiment," Leia added, her own memories of old wounds between Republic and Separatist rebels stirring. "No accusations of spies or plants from seditionists."

Now it was her turn to get stares. "Where exactly did you get your experience again?" Padmé asked, tone not teasing outright, nor quite demanding information.

"Civil conflict," Leia hedged. "Of various sorts."

"I'm going to… not mention that," Padmé said, leaning back in her chair to sip her tea again. "To the senate."

"That’s probably for the best."


	11. Blighted

It wouldn't start. They were going to the junkyard today to search for scraps and pieces and bits and Leia couldn't get the damn speeder to start.

She hadn't even done anything that should have broken it. Yet.

"Would you like me to take a look?" Shmi asked, already starting to get out.

"Please," Leia sighed, flopping back against the headrest. "I'm forgetting something obvious."

"A power source?" The tone was delighted, and Leia cringed.

"Yup. That. I forgot that." More specifically, to put it back in after she had finished her last replacements. "Hold up."

"I'll get it," Shmi said, heading back to their room. "I know where you put it."

"You weren't even there," Leia muttered, remembering exactly where she'd placed it. Somewhere Shmi shouldn't have found it, because it wasn't supposed to be in her way.

But apparently after six months she just knew Leia that well. It was two minutes before Shmi was coming back, and another six, then they were ready to go.

"Sorry," Leia said as she started up the speeder and moved them into traffic. "That was stupid."

"You've been working two jobs," Shmi pointed out. "And only getting paid for one of them."

It wasn't an accusation exactly. But Leia knew Shmi would talk to Padmé about it if Leia didn't. She had feelings about unpaid work. "I'm working on proving I have the experience to be hired to do something full time. And earning credentials." Turned out on Naboo you could take tests to qualify for local government positions if you didn't have an in-system education. Convenient that. "Becoming indispensable is just a good way to guarantee I have a job lined up."

It was a minute before Shmi said, "You came from privilege before all this, didn't you? It's why you don't think much of overextending yourself."

"I-" Leia struggled to think of how much of that was actually true. "At one point, yes. I came from privilege. But not just before I met you."

Not really. Sure, she'd been in government again, and representing what remained of her people. But there was no palace, no special privilege. She'd earned the same nominal wage as everyone else who had come from the rebellion into the new government. Lived and traveled on official ships, stayed in official housing when she was on planet for work. Or more often stayed as the guest of whoever they'd been courting at the moment.

Shmi didn't have anything else to say to that, and then they were sorting through piles of scrap and they were too busy to talk.

"Keep an eye out for better coolant options for Threepio," Leia reminded Shmi as she started to wade further back into the heaps. Turned out there were places just outside of Theed that were in fact ugly. Go figure. "I think Tatooine overtaxed his last ones."

"I am aware," Shmi called back.

There was some sort of pattern to the disposals, Leia noticed as she went along. A system that seemed to involve some sort of rotation, if the state of decomposition and the technical specs on the parts were anything to go by. Some of the nearby piles were fairly new, within the past year. Others were much older.

"Don’t fall in," one of the droids told her as she walked along the edge of a dark, mostly rusted pile. "We're moving most of this off planet soon. They won't find what's left of you."

A sad thought, that. And then Leia remembered how painful it was to have memorials with no bodies and had to stop until she had gotten her shivers under control.

Shmi might think that privilege made Leia overextend herself, but she wasn't sure it was more complicated than a deep, fundamental understanding that everything, everything could be returned to dust.

_"What is that?"_

It sounded like Luke. Or maybe Han. Or maybe someone else entirely. All Leia knew was that the voice was in her head and not her ears. She'd gotten good at differentiating on that.

She still paused, quieting her breathing and looking slowly around, listening for the slightest shift in the piles around her. Not far away she heard the faint clank of the droid she had just passed, shifting things. Her hand settled on her hip in quick range of her blaster as she took one then two steps forward, still listening.

_"Quiet your mind."_

That was Luke's voice, but Leia also knew it was a memory, not something from now. Still, she obeyed, letting her eyes slide shut and trying to… expand.

It wasn't quiet. It was never quiet when she did this. Maybe that was just relative though. She certainly didn't hear herself when she reached out into the Force. At least, not unless she tried to. She did seem to hear, and feel, everything else.

On good days, some of it even made sense.

_Hereherehere_

Something down. Down and to the left.

In that oh-so-dangerous pile.

Taking a few moments to walk around the edge, Leia couldn't ignore the tingle that swept up and down her arms as she tried to find a safe way down. Nothing looked particularly sturdy, and the few pieces she put her foot on wobbled quite a bit.

She debated, felt her heart start racing, and stepped out onto something.

It was a short trip down. Leia did not fall, but rather rode the cascading scraps as they shifted beneath her, half tripping, half leaping to the next best looking spot on pure instinct. By the time she'd reach something solid, her heart was almost buzzing and her breaths were coming short and quick. She forced herself to slow them and kept glancing around, waiting for-

For that glitter of fate in the corner of her eye.

Twenty minutes and much moving of garbage later, Leia heaved and lifted a metal sheet and heard something twang as it landed on some sort of generator scraps beneath. Ducking a bit Leia spotted what had made the noise and froze.

When she moved again, it was to chuck the sheet out of the way before she knelt down, reaching out and touching the metal cylinder in front of her with her fingertips.

It was cold. Which made sense. There was only sporadic light down here. It was dirty, which was also no surprise.

But it wasn't rusted. Wasn't deteriorated. Scratched, yes, possibly dented in a few places. Scuffed and worn and it _felt_ abandoned. Felt like loneliness and failure.

But when she worked up the courage to pick it up and activate it, it was a fully functioning lightsaber. It held up as she swung it around, tested it on some of the scraps beside her.

How had this gotten down here? How had no one noticed it? It wasn't even that old. Not a relic from a past forgotten age.

Eventually the shock wore off, Leia got out of that pit, found Shmi who was almost terrified, made mindless reassurances, added the lightsaber to the pile of scraps that got weighed and paid for. She clipped it to her belt once they were outside, by the speeder, and Shmi gave her a very worried look.

"Leia, what is that?"

"I'll show you when we get home."

What was Naboo doing hiding a random lightsaber?

* * *

As it turned out, the construction of lightsabers was technical knowledge that was confined to Jedi temples and Jedi texts, as Leia found out. So, she could either risk taking it apart, or just try and learn how to use it as it was.

She avoided both, shoved it in a drawer after she had cleaned it, and pretended nothing had happened and it didn't exist.

And then convinced Jar Jar to help her make friends with some other Gungans who started teaching her how to use polearms in their uniquely fluid Gungan fighting style.

Between working for Padmé, passing her tests, and urging Shmi to keep returning Ruwee's calls when he needed advice on the new refugee placement program.

Oh, and her other full-time job keeping accounts at a local business.

Maybe Shmi was right. Maybe Leia was a bit overextended.

But it was working, she thought. She was starting to get a grasp on what it felt like to be feeling the Force, to distinguish it from her own, unaugmented senses. She was catching up with local events, positioning herself to make a move to get involved in the senate. At least four of Padmé's handmaidens had more than hinted at Leia joining their group. She hadn't accepted. She needed more freedom of movement. But she knew she was moving in the right direction.

And so, it seemed, was Shmi.

"Ruwee's asked me to be there," Leia's grandmother told her one day as they were having dinner. "When the first group of refugees arrive. He thinks I'll be able to offer better reassurances that they can get resettled here."

While Leia agreed, she could understand Shmi's hesitance. "You don't think you can do it?"

"No," Shmi poked at her food. "I think I can. I just am not sure that I want- that I can do it alone."

Already mentally moving her schedule around, Leia still tried, "You've done well by yourself at the meetings. The other refugees that have been consulted prefer listening to you, and letting you take point."

"I know. But this is different."

"How?"

"No one coming will know I'm not actually in charge."

Ah, well, "You will be in charge."

"It would be nice," Shmi muttered, "if I could convince myself of that."

"Do you need me to come with you?" It wasn't like they couldn't use another set of hands. And she'd moved enough rebel cells and refugees to be able to handle this.

"Please. Just this time, to make sure I don't…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"No problem. I'll just move things around on my schedule a bit. I may end up working late a few nights that week." Shmi frowned and Leia continued, "I'll get paid for it."

"If it's going to interfere with your work-"

"Ruwee's been asking if I can be there," Leia said. "I already told him I would think about it. If you need me there, you need me there."

A face with far too many stress lines and its share of fine scars frowned at Leia, challenging the words with only the suspicion in those brown eyes. Eyes that reminded Leia of her own.

After a minute, Shmi nodded. "I would like to have you there with me."

"Then I'll come."

* * *

It was warm out. The sun was shining, it was the middle of the day, and the light was refracting off the ships and heating the landing pads. Leia ignored the warmth seeping into her toes (Tatooine at midday had been worse) and walked by the milling crowds, waving her arms and helping to direct things. She kept half an eye on Shmi, who was at some of the tables at the front of the crowd, helping people get processed.

The line wasn't moving as quickly as they had hoped, even with preliminary information collected on the ships as they had flown. Still, Leia had confidence that would be fixed with practice.

The smell of food came each time the breeze flitted by, and while it spoke hope to the adults, it was agitating the children. None of them would have eaten since a ration share for breakfast.

"We're not moving fast enough," one of the other volunteers whispered as they passed Leia, and she shot them an irritated look. Saying it out loud didn't help anything, only meant someone in their crowd might overhear it.

"Can you talk to that group over there?” she replied at normal volume, nodding to a section where it seemed there might be the start of some bickering. "See if they need any water."

That, at least, they could provide in the line. And it would hopefully slow the hunger.

"Are we gonna get lost?" a small voice asked, Leia looked down to see a small Twi'lek tugging at her mother's hand, swaying. "There's s'many people."

"We'll be alright," her mother promised, glancing up at Leia, who smiled reassuringly. "Just keep holding my hand. We're almost there."

It was another twenty minutes before Leia's section of the line made it to the front and she could pass Shmi at the table to tap her grandmother on the back and make sure she had something to drink. Taking Shmi's place for a minute so the woman could catch her breath, Leia kept an eye on the people still in line, noticing how they seemed to be getting more anxious.

"How many?" she asked, holding out her hand for the temporary IDs the passengers had been issued while she tried to clear the last family from the datapad.

"Two," a woman said, handing the tags over. "Me and my son."

Glancing up on instinct to give the boy a smile, Leia froze. Her mouth opened and closed and no sound came out. She glanced at the tag in her hand and swallowed. "Jaina Solo. And H- your son. Right."

Something in her mind switched then, and Leia knew she wasn't safe. But that was okay, because she knew exactly what she had to do. Move these people through line as quickly as possible. Without looking at those brown eyes and that young face that had been haunting her dreams intermittently for the past months.

(It hadn't been a lost future, it had been a real one. It wasn't their son, it was _Han._ )

"Supplies can be picked up using these tickets. You’re cleared for manual labor and can test again for carpentry and mechanics two weeks from now. Information on refresher classes you can take on those subjects will be on the boards over by the food. Do you have any questions?"

She was getting a suspicious look from mother and son, but Leia kept smiling, the bland smile that had been her shield and her weapon in the Imperial Senate. She felt nothing, saw nothing, wanted nothing…

"Thank you," Jaina said eventually, herding her son along. "I think we'll be alright."

"Volunteers are in the green and yellow vests if that changes," Leia's voice didn't crack, even as a lump formed in her throat as she watched little, tiny Han clutching his mother's hand and edging away from Leia. "Next."

She could throw up later. She could curl up in a ball and shriek and cry and scream tonight, later, when she wasn't in danger anymore. Now, now she had to work.

"I can go again," Shmi said, her arm coming around Leia's shoulders before the next group had handed their IDs over. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes," Leia said, and knew it was a lie. But she also knew Shmi was trying to let her escape and Leia couldn’t escape and leave Shmi in danger, she had to stay here, keep working until all of this was done.

It was less than an hour later when Threepio shuffled up, calling, "Mistress Leia, Mistress Leia."

Half a look at Shmi's face said the woman had somehow found time to call the droid. Leia still answered, "What is it?"

"I wonder, can you come help me with something? I'm having trouble explaining it."

Since there were no details to that request, Leia knew it was a lie. And one poorly concocted. But Shmi thought Leia was compromised and had sent Threepio to make sure they stayed safe. And if Leia was so compromised that she had to be saved by Threepio, she was too dangerous to be on the field. "Will you be alright here alone?" she asked quietly, eyes darting around the crowd, spotting the group that had been bickering earlier, looking ready for another fight.

"Go," Shmi said, no room for argument in her tone. "Get something to eat."

Leia did as she was told, following Threepio to where the volunteers were being served, shoveling her portions down without even thinking about it, finishing before she'd had time to register what the food was.

Things needed to be done, she had to get going.

"Leia."

It took ten seconds to recognize Jobal, her face frowning, her hands taking Leia's. "Did you need something?"

"Shmi said to check on you. Are you alright?"

Han was dead. She loved him and he was gone and today she had looked into his eyes and he hadn't known her and he was a _child_ and they would never have one, would never be together again and nothing was right in the universe-

She couldn't break. Not here. "I'm alright. What needs to be done?"

Work. Work now, panic later. Later when it was safe and she could go home and curl up next to Luke and-

Luke was dead. Han was dead. Chewie was dead.

She was alone.

( _"There is a place you can put your anger."_ But where could she put her grief for them?)

Leia breathed. Then closed her eyes and breathed again. Breathed twice more, swallowed more anger and more tears, made herself remember, _remember_ where she was and what needed to be done.

"I think-" Jobal started.

"Where do you need someone most? I can work."

There was clear reluctance, but Jobal mentioned the supply lines and Leia moved.

Break down later. Work now.

* * *

"Shmi said you had a busy day yesterday."

Leave it to Padmé to find a way to bring up the conversation Leia had been avoiding all night.

She hadn't slept. There wouldn't have been a point. "We got the first four ships processed. Temporary housing is currently working, transports are set to move on schedule today and get people spread out across the planet. No families have been separated, only one fight broke out, and Jobal was able to stop it. Busy, but good."

She got ten seconds to think she'd deflected the question pretty well before Padmé sat down next to Leia, took her hands, and asked, "What happened?"

It took several tried before Leia could force out, "I saw someone who looked like someone I knew. Someone dead."

Something poured out of Padmé, both sweet and bitter at once, and she leaned in and wrapped Leia in a hug. Shmi had done the same last night. This was better, because Leia wasn't crying anymore, so she didn't have to feel as humiliated about it. "I came at a bad time then," Padmé said.

"Depends," Leia took a deep breath as she pulled back. "What did you need?"

"Advice. And support. On Coruscant. But it sounds like-"

"When do we leave?"

"You have work," Shmi interjected, setting a tea tray down on the table. "You just took time off to help with the resettlement."

About to point out no one on Naboo would object to anything Padmé asked for, Leia was beat by the senator asking, "You passed your legal advisement exam, didn't you? This week?"

She had. "That is the worst named test," Leia griped, relieved for something simple to complain about. "It’s a mix of establishing an ethical calibration, reviewing Naboo sovereign precedent, and trying to break your spirit with enough legal text to make you go blind."

"Which is why I never took it," Padmé laughed. "The Youth Legislation group was much more practical and had so much less reading."

"That I don't believe."

The senator shrugged as she accepted her tea. "It did. I just did extra on whatever interested me. Or whatever Chancellor Palpatine recommended."

Already raw and bleeding inside, that was a vicious twist that almost overthrew Leia again. But if Padmé need her to come to Coruscant… maybe a clear villain was what she needed. To get away from her unpleasant past and firmly reseated in the present. "I'm guessing my passing clears some things up?"

"We want to hire you," Padmé nodded. "Shea thinks you'd be a great addition as a consultant for the committee."

"I didn't think she liked me that much," Leia said, trying to remember the Herdessan senator.

Shaking her head, Padmé said, "She's very impressed with your work. And a minor infraction on her planet that didn't even make it onto paperwork isn't going to stop her from calling in an expert. Though officially, you'd be a part of my office, working for me."

"I need to put in my notice."

"Only if you want this job."

"When do you need me packed?"

Shmi looked between the two of them and Leia knew she was unhappy. But she didn't say anything as Leia and Padmé worked out the details. Leia had a week to wrap up her affairs here and meet Padmé on Coruscant.

When their friend had left, Leia turned her attention to her grandmother. "You don't think I should go."

"I think you aren't well," Shmi said as she loaded the cups back onto the tray. "But I don't think you're going to listen to me if I tell you that you need to rest."

She wasn't, but Leia had at least enough sense left to feel guilty about it. She knew how she could get if someone didn't run interference. And while Shmi loved her and teased her, she didn't put up a lot of resistance. It was nice. But it wasn't going to ever make Leia stop.

It didn't help that she was getting jumpy and tingly again, as if this was the direction that the Force was leading her in. "I'll be careful. And I'm sure Padmé will keep an eye on me."

"That would be what concerns me the most," Shmi sighed, the twitch of her lips not really a smile.

"You can send Threepio if you want someone to fret over us."

That did get a smile, and Leia immediately regretted it. She'd been teasing, but for Shmi, "That is an excellent idea."


	12. Restless

Leia made a big show of settling into her room on the ship. Mostly so she could avoid everyone else. Including C-3PO. He had been hovering, and asking for privacy to sort through her things had been the best of the terrible excuses that Leia could come up with to get him to leave her alone for a moment.

"Of course, Mistress Leia," he had said. "I will wait right here until you are done and make sure no one disturbs you."

She'd thanked him, but wasn't really worried about it. Dormé had chosen to fly out with them instead of with Padmé two days before, and there was some other staff and crew on the ship. But none of them were going to ask about her business.

For which Leia was grateful. She needed a break from being fretted over and cared about.

She'd been averaging two hours of sleep a night for the past week.

Not bothering to pretend to look through her clothes, Leia reached her hand into her case and dug immediately for what she was looking for.

She'd brought the lightsaber.

It was going to be hell if anyone spotted it. She had no explanation for why she had it, much less why she felt the need to carry it with her. She supposed she could tell the truth, that she had just found it, but that wouldn't explain why she had decided to keep it.

She knew the right people. She could have turned it in. Padmé would have made sure it got to the Jedi temple.

"You're really winning with this one," she said, hefting the cylinder in her hand, fighting the urge to turn it on.

It wasn't hers. She really should return it.

Leia sighed, leaning back and letting her eyes slide shut.

A red haze. She could see through it, but couldn't push beyond, and he was in danger. Fighting the Sith alone. They'd gotten this far, just a few more seconds and she could-

"No!"

She felt the word explode from her mouth as one of those red blades slid into his chest, as his knees hit the ground and the rest of him followed.

And the Sith turned and smirked.

Gasping, Leia realized she was on the floor, her knuckles white on the hand that gripped the saber.

That was- That was-

What the hell was that?

It took a few moments before she had the strength to get up. To process.

It was like the dreams she'd had of her past. Or Luke's past. Things that had been, that she had always struggled to place. She was too tired. If she was seeing random men dying in front of her she was just too tired and she needed to sleep.

She'd just hoped to make it to Coruscant before she had to force herself to stop. She wasn't sure what she would dream, and she didn't think she could bear it if anyone heard her screaming out.

No help for it now, she realized as she shoved the saber back in with her clothes. She would just have to accept what was coming and face it.

* * *

"You are not okay."

At least Padmé wasn't mincing words. Leia nodded. "I haven't been sleeping well this week. I think I got a bit excited getting ready for all of this."

"She slept the whole flight," Dormé added, and Leia tried to not feel bitter about being ratted out. "Poor Threepio almost had a panic attack."

"It was most distressing," the droid complained. "She said she was only going to be a moment and that she didn't want to be disturbed. She asked me to stay outside, and I didn't know-"

Padmé listened to his whole story, sneaking glances at Leia every so often. For her part, Leia tried to look like someone who had finally gotten enough rest and was now (modestly) refreshed.

"It sounds like you needed the sleep," the senator said when Threepio had finished. "Think you're ready to get to work? We're trying to get approval to put together this commission, but it looks like we're also racing against a senate vote on gathering more details on military costs."

"Have they assigned a credit value to lives yet?" Leia asked, almost surprised at the acid in her own tone. "That’s when you know you've really lost."

"Not yet. But I'm sure if they ever bring the Hutts into the senate, we'll see that not long after."

"Are they making a bid?" Leia hadn't heard anything about that at all.

"No," Padmé reassured. "I mean, they stage an effort every so often. To see if they can make a profit and assert some influence. Try to mirror the Trade Federation and Banking Clans to avoid system sovereignty disputes. But they never declare all their sources of income, and they don't meet the minimum thresholds without the spice and slave trade factored in."

"Small favors," Leia grabbed the datapad being offered to her and started as she recognized the familiar faces. "Your coalition?"

"I wanted you to have a heads up with who you'll be dealing with at first. We may send you after our opponents at some point, but we’ll start by introducing you to our people. So you can always recognize friendly faces."

The irony of those words almost made Leia snort. She recognized the first five people on the datapad, but skimmed their bios anyway, to refresh where they would have been at this point in their careers. Stars above, Mon was just barely getting started on her political career here (which made sense if Han Solo was still about _five years old_ ), and half of these representatives had died when Leia was still a child.

She was left to go over the data, and after checking to make sure Padmé wasn't waiting on her, Leia let herself get lost for a bit in the information in front of her. There wasn't too much of it, but she needed it in the forefront of her mind if she wasn't going to walk into any traps.

It was going fine until she got to the last one.

Bail Organa of Alderaan.

Leia could recite from memory his entire biography. This one was shorter than her mental list, but as familiar to her as her own career had been.

It would figure in the desperation with which she had fled Naboo she would have forgotten _this_ critical detail.

Looking up to see Padmé working on something at the terminal in front of her, Leia took a moment to compose herself. To feel the grief and pain of that death in her past, and then to relish that it hadn't happened yet.

And never would, if she had any say in it.

"You've got a good team," she said, waving the datapad. "What is it exactly you expect me to do?"

Stepping away from the terminal, Padmé grabbed another datapad. "Here’s our super condensed version of the data that you organized for us. I need you to take the details that you have and redraw the lines that got lost when we tried to break it down into something our least invested members could digest."

Ah, the lowest common denominator problem. Glancing at the charts, Leia fought back a series of snide comments about how her work had been bastardized. "Lovely. I think I can do that. Then what? I could have done this at home."

"Present it," Padmé said. "I tried to get familiar enough to present the details, but," she rubbed her forehead, "they've been moving on the army issue more quickly than we expected. And we're losing more people than we thought we would. It's gone from being a series of loosely connected secessions to Count Dooku organizing a whole new congress. A governing body that can make united decisions-"

"Is twice as much of a threat. And makes disagreement in the senate look more like treachery."

"Yes," Padmé was far too relieved with how quickly Leia had picked that up. She shouldn't be having that much trouble explaining this to other delegates. "The Chancellor is doing his best, but nothing seems to work."

It was much harder to hold back a skeptical response to that statement. Leia knew for a fact that Palpatine was doing his best and that was why none of this was supposed to work. But the senate had a lot of delegates and he didn't expect a player to enter his game who knew what his goals were.

That had to count for something.

"Let me look over this and the data again and I can give you my short notes for a presentation before the end of the day."

"Thank you," Padmé stood. "I'll be in and out this morning working on preparing for the military cost investigation vote, and you'll probably see a few of the other coalition delegates. Feel free to ignore us as much as you want. You've got your staff codes?" Leia nodded. "Feel free to use my terminal while I'm out. We'll get you set up with your own as soon as we have a better idea of what you need."

* * *

There was a clatter at her elbow and Threepio asked, "Mistress Leia, do you need more tea?"

"No thank you," she managed to answer as she scrolled through some of the new data Eirtaé had given her that afternoon. "Do we have a response yet?"

"From the delegates? No, I'm afraid not. Senator Amidala promised to notify us as soon as she had their answer."

It wasn't like the answer mattered. Leia was here to work now, and this was her only job. She just liked having a schedule. "Thank you, Threepio."

"Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

There was an instinct to push him off, but part of Leia's brain fired and she said, "Could you put together a list of culturally appropriate gifts or gestures I can offer as a new member of Padmé's staff to her closest associates? She should have left the list over there. It will have their planet of origin and species."

"I would like nothing more."

He probably wouldn't. It had been a while since Leia had been in a position to ask Threepio to perform a task in line with his actual programing. She could have come up with a list herself, but this would save her time and Threepio was better at the nuances of it.

She didn't know how much time had passed before a voice at her elbow asked, "Have you eaten yet?"

Leia blinked up at Padmé, trying to push the numbers to the back of her mind. "What?"

"Food." There was that familiar sense of kinship that Padmé always exuded when she found Leia engrossed in a project. "And I'm guessing you haven't contacted Shmi."

Shooting up with a small yelp, Leia almost stumbled on legs that had not been expecting movement. With Padmé's help, Leia didn't lose her balance, but she did take a moment to reorient herself. "I can't believe I forgot."

There wasn't a verbal answer to that, but the expression on Padmé face matched the strengthened sense of kinship around her. "I'm sure she's expecting you."

The holocall was brief and staticky. They still hadn't purchased a new unit and were working with what Leia had cobbled together. But the time was good and Shmi seemed at least slightly reassured that Leia was doing alright so far.

It was a good thing that she called before Bail came to consult with Padmé.

Leia had tucked herself back behind the desk, under it actually, and was taking time to think over the things she had been looking at, almost meditating to see what floated to the top of her mind. She'd been yanked back to the present when she'd heard an all too familiar voice ask, "Where's your new assistant?"

Alderaan, green, nothing. Nothing but space and dust, and a hole in her heart that was screaming its pain.

"She's working on something," it sounded like Padmé was looking around the room. "Maybe she stepped out for a minute."

"Lost in your own project?" There wasn't a hint of censure in the comment, just subtle but sincere enjoyment.

"I am," Padmé sounded a bit sheepish, must still not recognize all the exact nuances of Leia's fa- of Bail Organa's tones. "Did you need something?"

"I had an idea."

She should have gone back to thinking about her own problems. But Leia just closed her eyes, leaning back against the desk and listening to a voice she hadn't heard in five, almost six years now, trying to find balance.

When they left to go and meet up with some other delegates, Leia fled. She'd get food, she'd rest, she'd do _something._ She just wasn't ready to face the ghost of this father yet.

* * *

Walking in Coruscant was always a dubious activity at best. It got you from place to place more on the lower levels where flying was much safer. It was a social activity on higher levels, and so you ran the risk of running into the politically minded and very rich.

Leia went back to Padmé's apartments first, making sure to send a message so Padmé could reach her if needed. But there wasn't anything to do there that didn't make Leia feel like she was shirking her work, so she left pretty quickly and boarded the rail at the nearest station.

It was partly to reorient herself and partly because there wasn't a better place to hide than in a crowd of busy, shifting people. She listened to the noise, switched lines a few times, and got herself very deliberately lost so that she could carefully work her way back.

Which was how she founded herself standing, scowling, outside the Jedi Temple.

It was enormous. And utterly unlike the palatial home of evil it had been turned into. There was a sense of peace all around it, not perfect, but nothing like the cold, hollow monument to Palpatine's power that it had been in Leia's memory.

"He destroyed all of this," she whispered to herself as she started to circle the base. She wasn't sure entirely who she was talking about.

But her heart ached.

She wasn't the only one staring, but the realization that she looked like a tourist pricked her pride and she composed herself. It was time to head back. She shouldn't be here.

A feeling, so hauntingly familiar in two completely separate ways danced across her senses. Like the briefest touch of a mind she still knew as well as her own, only… not. Foreign in ways she couldn't describe.

Maybe it was-

She cut the thought off, pulled back into herself, swallowed her curiosity and pride. This wasn't a safe place to speculate. She had to maintain control.

But as she made her way back to the rail lines, through the bustle of city traffic, back to the Executive Building, Leia knew somewhere in her heart that she would be back.


	13. Orientation Adjustments

Leia was getting very good at pretending to sleep. It had only been a week, but she was sharing a room with Eirtaé, who had every reason and obligation to spy on her for Padmé, and Leia had perfected the limp stillness that implied sleep for those moments when Eirtaé was just drifting off.

The handmaiden wasn't any more comfortable than Leia sleeping in a room with someone who was almost a complete stranger and took forever to drift off.

The dreams when Leia did sleep were vicious. And day by day, night by night, she could feel them getting worse. Could hear Eirtaé's sleep becoming more restless in the bed across from her.

"Do you think it's anxiety about the votes?" Leia asked one morning over breakfast, noticing the shadows around Padmé eyes.

The senator nodded. "I think so. I always sleep worse on Coruscant though, especially when I first get back. I think it's the noise of the traffic as much as the anxiety."

Which was hilarious. The rooms had perfect sound proofing. Leia would have pinned it more on the unnatural stillness that permeated everything. "Any tips?"

"Meditate?" Padmé suggested, shrugging. "I go to the firing range every night before bed. It helps."

So Leia had joined her, aimed for four hours of sleep a night, napped during the day when no one needed her, and on two occasions pulled out the lightsaber and practiced the Gungan staff forms in an improvised way with the saber when she was alone in the apartments.

It was unnerving and delightful how composing it felt.

With effort and practice, Leia managed to stop flinching every time she heard Senator Organa's voice or name. To get Shmi to stop asking if Leia was alright, not because Shmi believed things were okay but because she knew it just didn't help. To make tea exactly before dawn so that when Dormé or Padmé were the next ones up, it looked like Leia had just woken, not been standing on the balcony for hours, closing her eyes and breathing and reaching for… quiet.

Peace.

Which was painfully elusive.

And between that, there was work.

It wasn't much, but for now, it would have to be enough.

* * *

Anakin Skywalker woke from dreaming and shook his head, scowling when he caught his master's amused look.

"Tired?" Obi-Wan asked, and Anakin rolled his eyes.

"No. Just meditating, master."

"With your mouth open? Tell me, does that allow you to absorb more wisdom?"

It was more playful teasing today than a lecture, and Anakin was grateful, if a bit bitter. He hated getting caught. "Of course. I learned it from you, after all. And you're much wiser."

It came across sharper than he'd meant it to sound, and there was a ping of recoil in the Force, so very small, but Anakin caught it. "Well, if you believe that, perhaps you'll believe me when I say you'll be better off if you’re in a state of mind to keep your mouth shut. When you're meditating," Obi-Wan added with the slightest stumble. "Your jaw hurts less. And you learn more."

"I wasn't sleeping," Anakin mumbled as he started to make them breakfast. He really hadn't thought that he was. He knew he was having a dream, but he had those all the time, even when he was awake. It had been so odd too. Like he was walking with someone, someone he loved, but he didn't know their name. Or their face.

He missed them now that he was awake.

Obi-Wan accepted the hot water Anakin had prepared and got to work on their tea. It was a ritual that brought him comfort, Anakin knew. Reminded Obi-Wan of Master Jinn, Anakin thought.

He went back to preparing breakfast, a sense of longing lingering heavily in his heart.

* * *

There was a beep from her terminal and Leia checked her messages to see that someone had sent her an updated list of transport manifests from the Rodia System. Good, that meant she could see how much the Trade Federation had syphoned off and sold wholesale to Cato Neimoidia, cutting Rodia’s profit margin and stocking on their own planet in case of… trouble.

Working in her own office (and by her own Leia knew it technically belonged to any of the temporary Naboo staff that came to the Executive Building) it was easier to stay focused. None of the delegates were so interested in her presence that they came here to seek her out.

But that didn't mean there weren't interruptions.

"Mistress Leia." Given his exasperated tone, Leia had probably missed Threepio the first three times he'd tried to get her attention. He continued the moment she looked up. "I'm thinking today would be a good day to go and visit Senator Darsana. It's midday, and the moons are positioned so that our location is at what would be the lowest tide possible."

It took Leia a moment to remember Senator Darsana was from Glee Anselm, but she nodded and put away her work. "Thank you Threepio. Is there anything I should bring, or say?"

“Gifts would be a competitive gesture. Just yourself, I think. I can teach you the appropriate greetings on the way."

Leia practiced as they walked, noticing they were moving towards the center of the building, away from windows and harsh sunlight. They crossed a hall and the air became noticeably more humid, and slightly cooler as well.

Allowing herself to shiver for a moment, Leia approached the Senator's office and, at Threepio's recommendation, chimed but didn't enter. It was a moment before an aide appeared and Leia was able to bow and request an audience.

She knew she'd gotten the finger gestures right in the bow when the Anselmi's eyes widened and he left the door open while he went to see if the senator had time. There was barely any wait before she and Threepio were ushered in.

"You are Senator Amidala's new assistant," Senator Darsana wasted no time with introductions.

Assuming he was testing her, Leia performed a second bow, with a slightly different gesture than the first. The senator's expression did not change, but she felt calm descend in that moment. "I don't wish to take too much of your valuable time. But I did want to offer my services, on behalf of Naboo, in any way that they relate to your needs or desires. If that is in line with your wishes."

"You are working on a special project the senator believes is of some value?" his expression still hadn't changed, but his head bowed slightly and his own fingers danced in a reply to her gesture. She'd have to ask Threepio for their exact meaning later. "I'm afraid I don't understand the details."

Leia weighed the words carefully, trying to decide if this was an invitation. Threepio hadn't mentioned specifically if she should immediately go or stay after this particular greeting. "The details vary in impact from system to system. My efforts have been to understand how the Trade Federation's more recent policies, in relation to their newer taxes, have diminished the flow of services across systems. Glee Anselm, I believe, has been cheated of profits that are rightfully theirs."

There was the slightest twitch to betray the surprise she felt in the air all around them. Senator Darsana's mouth slipped slightly open, as though he were tasting the air. "You wish to perform us a service?"

She could almost taste the disbelief in his voice. "Senator Amidala has asked me to expand this project believing it will be of great value to many systems. I would be honored if you felt it would be of value to yours."

And willing to help, but he seemed to understand that. To believe it, which was better. "We are but a far, damp, Mid Rim planet." Leia was impressed. He had excellent vocal control as he said those caustic words. "What value does Naboo see in offering help to us?"

"Freedom," Leia said promptly, the fire in Padmé's eyes as she spoke of democracy jumping to mind. "To live and thrive and love as all worlds and peoples deserve."

The invasion of Naboo was almost ten years gone, but the echoes of it rang through the senate still, like bad blood seeping from an open wound. If it had happened there, to that world, who among them was still safe? Glee Anselm didn't have trade goods for massive exports, but it was bled slowly dry by the Trade Federation all the same. And the Anselmi were more sensitive to that slight than their Nautolan neighbors. They knew what it was like to watch your people, your world, dying.

"All worlds," the senator tapped a finger twice. "All peoples. But at what cost?"

"There is more than enough galaxy for sentients to thrive without doing so at the expense of others," Leia said simply. "The cost? That will be different for everyone."

He seemed intrigued by her answer. "Senator Amidala is an idealist," he stated. "A good woman, but an idealist. Constantly weighed down by the disappointments of other’s cynicism and greed."

"She's stood this long," Leia felt her lips twitch. "And she does not stand alone."

Senator Darsana snorted. "The Chancellor is a man of many words and little action."

Fascinating. Leia wouldn't have assumed he wanted people to see him like that. Palpatine had always given the impression that he wanted people to believe he was effective. But then, not everyone could always be fooled. Sometimes, they just had to be kept silent despite it. "He is hardly the only one Senator Amidala has relied on. She came to me for help with this."

Shit. She hadn't meant to offer that kind of challenge. This was just supposed to be a greeting. She wanted to be invisible here, at least for a while longer.

Well, needed. Leia had never wanted to be invisible, but she knew what her limits were, at least in this.

"And you in turn have come to me," the senator was truly smiling now, and Leia noticed the points of his teeth. "To offer your help. I am not a new senator, child. I will test you to your very limits."

Good, she thrilled. Leia loved being taken seriously. And it seemed like Senator Darsana was ready to take her very seriously. "I look forward to the chance of improving them. By your graces."

Another bow, one Threepio had only shown her once and assumed she wouldn't use. But this had gone better than she had thought.

The senator laughed, stood, rounded his desk, and bowed back before offering her his hand. "I'll look forward to seeing your success."

He allowed her to schedule a time to meet with his aide and discuss the details of what she had discovered while he left for whatever he had next.

* * *

Wandering the building after lunch the next day, Leia was only half listening to Dormé’s complaints about the food as she watched other people move around them, making note of who stayed close and who gave them a wide berth.

Which was only part of the reason she spotted the Tholothian Jedi making her way through the halls. The other part was the natural pull that Leia felt the moment the woman rounded the corner, walking briskly, expecting others to move out of her way.

A Jedi in the senate offices. The incongruity of the moment struck Leia harder than she would have thought. The Jedi had once regularly worked with the senators. She shouldn’t be surprised to see one here.

But she was. Surprised to see a Jedi at all, honestly.

The woman was almost parallel with them when Leia noticed the lightsaber hanging from her belt, swinging in tempo with her steps. The staring must have caught the Jedi’s attention because she stopped then stepped a bit closer, brushing her finger across her weapon and saying in a low tone, “We’re given special permission to carry these here.”

Leia blinked, meeting deep blue eyes and a kind smile trying not to look too startled. “O-of course.” And then, because it struck her as so _wrong_ suddenly, “The Force isn’t weapon enough?”

A wave of shock snapped out and gone in a blink. Leia didn’t pride herself on having noticed it. The Jedi’s feelings were so _real_ in comparison to the muted beings around them.

After a moment of careful observation the Jedi extended her hand. “Jedi Master Adi Gallia.”

“Leia,” she accepted the hand and tried not to notice the extra warmth that seemed to seep from those fingers. Leia herself felt blank, distant. Diminishing.

Master Gallia didn’t let go right away. “That was an interesting observation about the Force.”

“Was it?” Leia was surprised. It seemed the only thing Luke had been expected to learn to be a Jedi for was to fight against evil of some sort or another. No matter the personal cost. She was surprised at her own bitterness. “I’m not much of an expert.”

Stupid, stupid. She was talking to a Jedi _Master_. She was furthest thing from an expert in comparison to this woman.

But Master Gallia just smiled. “It was. The Jedi aren’t only warriors. Temple training rarely involves instructing us in using the Force to fight, though field experience can be different. It’s what our lightsabers are for. To help us in those moments when we need to keep the peace.”

It sounded a little wrong (what a sanctimonious way of putting it too, as though it didn’t boil down to just being violence), but Leia was on very shaky ground here, so she just nodded. “I wasn’t concerned by your carrying it. Just fascinated.”

“It is a unique weapon,” Master Gallia agreed, glancing over Leia’s shoulder. Dormé must have moved close to get a better look. “A lightsaber is an integral part of a Jedi’s life. We build them by the guidance of the Force after we are taught about the basic components. The crystals call to us, resonate with something within us. We carry them as much as to be reminded of who we truly are as to use them for defense.”

“I see.” Feeling like that was inadequate, Leia added, “Thank you. For the explanation.”

“We are less afraid of things that we understand,” Master Gallia was being very quiet now, and Leia forced down resentment at her implication. She was not _afraid_.

She didn’t fear the unknown. She feared what she knew. With perfect certainty.

But knowing she couldn’t be rude, Leia only said, “What happens when a Jedi loses their lightsaber?”

“They find it,” there was more than a little amusement in the Jedi master’s voice. “If it’s damaged, they repair it. It is who they _are_.”

Those words haunted Leia as she went about the rest of the day. Lingered through the night as she curled up on the balcony railing, weighing the saber she had found in her hands.

* * *

Shea Sadashassa _liked_ Leia, and it was anyone's guess as to why. She was as business minded as she was political, and so were all of her staff. There wasn't anything about Leia that should have stood out as special. So Leia was surprised that her casual dinner invitation (recommended by Threepio as an appropriate reintroduction with the assurance that it would be polite to offer and frankly ignored) was accepted. She’d had to rush to have something prepared in Padmé’s office, which earned her looks from the senator and Dormé.

"You're not what I was expecting," Shea said, sipping something Leia had refused to even try. She wasn't ready to mix alcohol and the possibility of the Chancellor's random appearance.

He’d apparently dropped by the other day when Leia had wandered over to the Temple.

"I really get that a lot," Leia answered, trying to be flattered as she smiled. "I'm not sure what anyone is expecting anymore."

The senator took a moment. "Someone gentler, I think," she mused. "Padmé adores you, and there's something in most of the people she adores that is like that. Bail's soft, when it comes to his wife. Her handmaidens are professional, but I've seen Dormé cry from the stress of keeping Padmé safe more than once. You… I've never seen you be soft."

"I…" It was a strange statement. Leia was so used to thinking of herself as small and unimposing. But that was probably different than what Shea meant. "I've never really thought about it."

The people that knew her, the people she had loved, they had known she was soft. Not even that deep down.

Shea was amused. "It's not that I think you can't be. Like I said, it's Padmé's type. I just wonder what sort of conditions have to be met to get you to that point."

"I really couldn't tell you."

"Not that you would," Shea tossed back her drink. "I'm not one of your favorites."

"You're incredibly competent and I'm grateful that you've never rubbed our first meeting in my face," Leia countered. "I like you very much."

A shrug. "You do. But you like Padmé more, and it's not just because you know her better. You like people that are soft too."

"You think Padmé would be where she is if she was that soft?"

"Oh, she's also resilient. I think you two get away with what you do because people make the mistake of thinking of those things as mutually exclusive. And neither of you has any sense of shame when you take advantage of that."

"I'd best use these delicate doe eyes for something," Leia muttered, sipping her water and gazing out the window so the bitterness behind that sentiment was harder to pinpoint.

She hadn't fooled Shea. "You're a brilliant mind, or you will be with the right training. You don't mind being sneaky and people underestimating you if it means you can win. But you'd rather have an up front fight, and crush someone with your merits. You've trained yourself to be delicate, because it's what people expect. But really, you're quite vicious."

“How’d you get that impression?”

Shea’s smile had too many teeth. “That lovely conversation you had with Rush.”

Leia winced. "I didn't think anyone had noticed me speaking to Senator Clovis."

"I don't think he was expecting you to take his overtures so personally."

It was difficult to explain beyond, "Something about him bugs me."

"He's a rat," Shea agreed cordially. "But he's one of Padmé's friends, or at least old associates. So every once in a while we have to put up with him. But even if Padmé asks him for something, it's even odds he'll vote against her. He's in some pretty deep pockets."

And not likely to get out, Leia gathered. "Why are you telling me this?"

Shea didn't hesitate. "Because I want to see you destroy him. I don't like him, I don't trust him, and he’s doing something that is driving me mad because I can't pin it and I can't prove it. And I'm pretty sure you'll eat him alive someday. I'm very much looking forward to watching you do it."

Scipio's relationship with the Banking Clan made Senator Clovis a risky friend on a good day. Leia had no trouble believing he would get himself into more trouble on top of that. "I don't think I'm supposed to start my career by plotting to eliminate the respected delegates of the senate."

"Just the unrespected ones then?"

Leia still wasn't sure why exactly Shea liked her, but she knew that she liked Shea. A lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, Anakin finally showed up...


	14. Resilience

Leia was leaving some notes on Padmé’s desk when the senator stormed through the door. "I take it the vote didn't go well."

"It didn't happen," Padmé threw her headdress onto one of the chairs, not even noticing when it fell to the floor. Eirtaé picked it up without making a comment, but her eyes followed the senator's every move. "We got caught up in the stupid military creation question again and were completely derailed. Somehow everything keeps coming back to that."

Not a surprise, but Leia just said, "I take it you won't need me tomorrow then?"

Face twisting with guilt, Padmé shook her head. "I can't get them to agree on things they already promised, much less focus on a broader scale of attack. It's a problem that is only getting bigger, _and_ if they would deal with it then it would make these other issues less of a crisis. Better trade routes, more loans through providers who don't have a monopoly on interest rates. But do they listen?"

"No," Leia handed Padmé a cup and made sure the senator actually drank. "Any support?"

"Shea," Padmé sighed. "But I can't even get Bail to budge on this. He's caught up reacting to it too. Well, and trying to hold the coalition together."

But wars were won and lost by small actions as much as big ones. "Mon Mothma?"

"No, she's like me. Too new. Relatively speaking. And Uncle Ono is thinking of heading back to Rodia. He's not sure he can keep his seat with things going the direction they are. Not if he also votes against military action."

"His people need better trade options."

"Oh, I'm aware," Padmé slumped into a seat, rubbing her face with both hands. "We've even talked about it. He likes our ideas, he's just not sure we can get the movement we need."

"Tens of thousands of systems," Leia mused, "With several thousand senators representing them. And we still can't get a single thing done."

She could, objectively, see the appeal of having an executive leader who pushed things along. It was just hard to also come up with a list of the correct limitations to prevent them from pushing only their own agenda.

Although, making sure they weren't a Sith lord would probably help. A lot.

"I just don't understand," Padmé said, pulling Leia's attention back. "Why doesn't anyone _want_ to get things done?"

It was hard to not just nod at the sentiment, but Leia forced herself to say, “They do. They just want to get things done that relate to them."

"There's also the issue of money," Eirtaé pointed out. "Or just resources generally. Once the Republic started changing the terms of entry and representation, systems had different concerns for qualifying to be part of the body. And you know how many just opt out, or allow themselves to be pulled into someone else's district."

A numbers game. Leia had been enjoying those first few weeks, sorting through the data and making it make sense. But now she needed the numbers to do her bidding, and that was a much harder task. Because what the numbers represented were people, who were frequently irrational and-

"What do they want?" she asked, mostly to herself. "What do they want to have? To maintain?"

Leverage, they needed leverage and-

"Leia?" Padmé and Eirtaé were both watching her curiously.

"Why do they want an army?" Leia asked. "Really want one? Who is it that wants the military force? They have the Jedi," which didn't factor into her calculations nearly enough, she realized. "Where do they think the soldiers are going to come from? The supplies? The ships? Who do they think is going to be taxed?"

They spent twenty minutes working through that, and lifted Padmé’s spirits enough that when she got a request to go and talk to the Trade Federation delegate, she had fire in her eyes again.

When she had left, Leia asked, "Where do the staffers meet to share the best gossip? I've tried the refectory and several of the lounges, but it seems like those are still too public."

Eirtaé blinked. "We didn't show you? Come on, there are a few good options."

"Mixed company?" At Eirtaé's baffled look, she added, "Mixed delegations. Staff low enough on in the hierarchy they don't mind fraternizing with the enemy a bit."

The really dangerous ones, who sometimes stayed in those positions for years, had the best information and the best sabacc faces. They were Leia's favorites.

"I…don't know. We don't go down there as much now."

Well, they would need to fix that.

* * *

Ten days, and Leia's head was already swimming with the feeling of being back on Coruscant for too long. She needed calm, she needed quiet, she needed _peace._ And she wasn't really sure where she could go to get it.

Something in the air here tasted like Palpatine. She wouldn't have noticed, but she had finally lived in a world without him, and now having him back…

Sometimes it was like the very air she breathed was slick with the oily feel of his corruption.

"How are things going?" Leia asked Shmi, trying to focus on the call instead of her own misery.

_"Well enough. Things are moving a bit faster than we anticipated. We've already processed ten ships."_

"Ten?" Leia didn't know if she should be impressed or horrified.

_"Ruwee and Jobal say this is good. Our system is holding so far. Not flourishing. We're still working out problems with every flight that lands. But we haven't been overwhelmed, and the camps and stations that have been set up aren't generating more problems. The locals currently barely know we're here."_

That would change, Leia thought, when people came looking for work and education. Started integrating with the current populace. But if they'd processed another six ships already, that meant the process wasn't just working in Theed, it was working across the planet, and even further out in the system. Which was good. It meant they were off to the right start.

"Do you have any idea how many more you can expect?"

_"Not immediately. Ruwee's in conversations with several Outer Rim contacts, but most of their people don't want to settle here. Which is one of our big problems. We have plenty of transplants, but not the best ground to plant them in."_

Which meant, "I assume he's contacting other systems."

_"Yes. But things have been slow as far as reception."_

It was delightful to see the spark of anger in Shmi's eyes. For the first time in her life she had the power to do something, to change other's circumstances. She was made for it. "I'm sorry. I'll talk to Padmé and see if she has any ideas of people who might be willing to get on board with the test runs. It would be better to see if the process holds up in other systems."

She'd talk to Shea about it, Leia thought. That was where all of this had gotten started anyway.

_“Just as long as it doesn’t add to your workload,”_ Shmi said sternly. _“You have enough on your plate already.”_

Thinking back to her own years working in the senate, and then to the multiple positions she’d had to simultaneously fill in the Rebellion, Leia could only shrug. “I have space for this.”

Shmi took a moment to give Leia the most motherly stare before asking, _“How much sleep are you getting?”_

“On average?” Leia stalled, scrambling for an answer that wasn’t a lie. Shmi was too good at spotting those. And also half-truths.

_“Leia…”_

“Not enough,” she confessed, shrugging as nonchalantly as she could. “But I’m used to it. I’ll catch up later and-“

_“That’s not how sleep works. And you need your mind sharp for your work.”_

“Yes, Grandmother,” Leia muttered, freezing as she realized what she had said.

Shmi had frozen too, then relaxed and smiled, something in her expression warming in a way Leia couldn’t pinpoint. _“I love you, Leia.”_

Tears pricked at the corner of Leia’s eyes and she whispered, “I love you too.”

And it was true. Shmi was family and friend and companion, brave and gentle and strong. Leia was proud to be a part of this woman’s legacy. It healed so much hurt that had been haunting her since that lonely night on Endor.

_“I know you like to work hard. But don’t forget to take care of yourself.”_

“I’ll do my best,” Leia promised.

_“Do better.”_ The dryness was offset by real affection, but Leia got the message.

She ended the call with Shmi and leaned back against the couch, glancing around at the empty apartment. Padmé was at some sort of dinner party tonight, Dormé was seeing someone special she thought no one knew about, and the other handmaidens on planet were nominally watching Padmé. Leia guessed they were more likely flirting and spying.

She needed to get in more on that part of their work. But how to convince them? Showing up uninvited was a definite no.

As happened often now when she didn't have enough to do, Leia found herself in her quarters, digging the misplaced lightsaber out of her bag and turning it over and over. She rarely turned it on. There was something about the hum of it that made her hair stand on end. Something angry and heartbroken.

Sometimes she saw yellow eyes in a red face and felt… nothing (like the blackness she felt every time she'd met the Emperor's eyes).

Sighing, Leia put the saber back. And plotted how to get Padmé to let her help with the military creation movement. She'd be good at helping, she knew she would. And if she were indispensable…

When all else failed, repeated what had already worked.

* * *

“You’re up early.”

Finishing the sentence she was reading, Leia used the time to pull herself together before she looked up to greet the Jedi. “Master Gallia. Not really, just having breakfast here instead of at home. Things are a bit tumultuous this morning.”

There’d been an invitation to some sort of political dinner in the coming week or so. And a lively debate about whether or not they should even show up, much less who would be appropriate to bring and what to wear.

“So you came here for peace and quiet,” there was an almost envious looked on Master Gallia’s face as she looked around the room.

“For quiet at least,” Leia founded herself saying before she had thought about it. “Peace is in short supply these days.”

The Jedi master looked slightly surprised, then shook her head. “I have the privilege of being able to retreat to the Temple at night. I suppose that does give me an advantage.”

“A pity it can’t be shared,” Leia mused, hoping it came across more humorous than scathing.

“The grounds are open,” Master Gallia said with a casualness that had Leia’s attention where a pointed comment might have slid by. “It’s not the Temple proper, but there are shrines and gardens and peace there. Have you ever visited?”

Setting her datapad aside, Leia said, “I’ve been just outside, but I’ve never seen the grounds. I keep pretty long hours here.”

“They open the doors early,” Master Gallia nodded towards the window in what Leia assumed was the direction of the Temple. “As soon as the first Jedi are up and moving. You could go now, if you wish.”

It was still technically another hour before she needed to be here. But she’d finally gotten into the flow of things and was loath to stop. “Maybe I’ll finish early tonight and head over then.”

“Of course. Well, don’t let me keep you from your work.”

“Thank you for stopping in,” Leia knew the words were rushed, but she didn’t want to leave a bad impression. “It was good to see you.”

That earned a warm, “May the Force be with you, Leia.”

“You as well,” managed to slide off her tongue, but Leia found she couldn’t make herself repeat the sentiment. She felt the pressure of a flood of memories that would come with it, and she couldn’t handle that this morning.

* * *

“I didn’t know you had met Senator Clovis.” Eirtaé’s tone was bordering on suspicious and Leia set aside her food to give the handmaiden her full attention. “He was asking about you.”

“We ran into each other in the hall the other day. He recognized me as from Naboo and mentioned he and Padmé had joined the senate at the same time.” And gotten a little too cozy and close while doing it. Leia had almost allowed herself to be flattered, until she had caught his tone when he had said Padmé’s name. They didn’t look that much alike, dammit. “I didn’t think much of it.”

Cordé laughed. “Did he ask you about Padmé? If she’d mentioned him?”

“Not directly,” Leia was relieved she’d read that right. “Should she have? Shea mentioned that they were associates, maybe friends.”

“Senator Sadashassa?” Cordé sounded impressed and Eirtaé looked slightly scandalized. But she also seemed jealous when Leia called Padmé by her name as well. That was an ally that hadn’t been quite won over yet. “Oh right, you had dinner together. How did that go?”

Not sure if Cordé was actually distracted, or just unwilling to talk about Clovis, Leia answered, “Pretty well. I may have broken civil codes in her presence when Padmé picked Shmi and I up on Herdessa, but I don’t think she’s holding that against me, and I’m grateful.”

“She’s a tricky one,” Cordé popped a piece of bread into her mouth, chewing while she thought. “She does hold grudges when she takes offense, but she’s unlikely to tell you the reason why she was offended. She’ll just make something up to make you squirm as you try and fix it.”

“You broke a civil code?” Eirtaé would get stuck on that.

“I left my landing platform before my paperwork had been processed. I went back and got everything put together before we left, but it was kind of silly and I felt stupid about it.”

Later, when she’d had time to think about it and realize that she’d let herself be led around by the Force without thinking about the consequences. Maybe people like Luke or real Jedi could get away with that. Leia definitely hadn’t.

The answered seemed to mollify Eirtaé though. “I suppose that isn’t too bad.”

Her blush told Leia she hadn’t meant to say that out loud as much as Cordé’s snort. “Says the person who parked our speeder at the completely wrong building, much less landing zone, on Alderaan.”

“All the buildings there are tall and white,” Eirtaé protested. “How was I supposed to know which one they were talking about?”

“You weren’t given an escort?” Leia blurted. The surprised looks she got almost rivaled her own feeling.

“We weren’t there on official business. Padmé was, but we were just sightseeing. They offered, but it seemed wrong to accept.”

Leia frowned. “You’ve worked with royalty before. They would hardly offer if they didn’t want you to accept it.”

Cordé sniggered and Eirtaé was definitely blushing. “It seemed so trivial…”

“Until you parked at the wrong place and our speeder was impounded. Padmé nearly died laughing when she found out. And you were so embarrassed we actually walked back.”

“I couldn’t claim political exemption,” Eirtaé’s hands were dancing around her head. “We were _sightseeing_.”

A thought occurred to Leia. “Did you go to see the hot springs? Near the great theatre?”

Embarrassment became horror for Eirtaé and Cordé nearly choked trying not to laugh at her friend. “Oh yes. We went to the springs. We had a lovely time there, didn’t we?”

“It’s a very traditional spot,” Leia said primly, knowing her eyes had to be giving away her amusement. “The buildings are very old, but the open air baths are excessively lovely.”

“You’ve been?” Cordé seemed genuinely curious, but Leia found herself shutting down. Backing away from the truth as much as she could.

“Once. It was…I only had the chance once.”

She’d gone with her mother, as a special treat while her father was gone. Leia still wasn’t sure if he’d been scandalized that they went, or just jealous they had gone without him.

Several of the baths were designed for deliberate mixing of genders and species, a part of Alderaan’s historically open and welcoming culture. And places the royal family were unlikely to visit at that point. Since there had been so much galactic conflict and it left the royalty…exposed.

“Maybe we should all go together sometime,” Cordé suggested, ignoring Leia’s hesitance. It was hard to tell if she was just bold, or unflappable. “Take Shmi and Padmé with us.”

“I don’t think-“ Eirtaé began, just as Leia laughed and said, “Oh absolutely yes. It would be so much fun.”

Although, Leia would have to warn Shmi first. Surprising Padmé with hot springs would be fine. The Tatooine woman was still adjusting to showers with water. Forget _public baths._


	15. Unsettled Spirits

When the numbers started to jumble on the screen in front of her, Leia knew she would have to call it a day. There was just too much data here and she needed to find a more efficient way to sort through it now that she had about ten times as much of it to handle.

Without having Padmé hire someone else. Leia wasn’t ready to have the nagging suspicion someone was (even accidentally) outing their plans as a constant worry just yet.

“Are you finished for today, Mistress Leia?” Threepio asked, looking up from his own work. He’d been asked to come up with a list of more casual events they could invite delegates to for fostering better working relationships.

“Yes, Threepio. If you want to stay here and finish anything, I’m sure the senator or Cordé would be more than happy to bring you home.”

Standing, he said, “Oh no, that’s quite alright. I have a good list so far and I’m just working on cutting some of the more expensive or outlandish ideas. Anything that Artoo would approve of has already been cut from the list.”

Laughing at that particular standard, Leia suddenly stopped. “Do you know where he is right now?”

“I would assume with Senator Amidala. He tends to follow her around during the day. When she isn’t in private meetings.”

Where he got to when he wasn’t with the senator was a question Leia should have asked a long time ago. But for now, she commed Padmé and asked if Artoo was available. He rolled into the office a minute or two later, beeping a query of what Leia wanted.

“Are you up for an adventure?” she asked, hoping he’d get into enough trouble to keep him entertained, but little enough that she wouldn’t get called on it.

Artoo gave a strong affirmative.

“Good. I was hoping you could compile-“ A thought flashed. “No. I need… Artoo, do you know how to access official reports from the senate database?”

He asked which ones, but she knew him well enough to know it was more to gauge what how much trouble she would get him into, not lack of ability.

“I need the financial and transport records for the Trade Federation, and also the other trade groups that are approved by the senate. I need to compare their official reports to the primary source records and see if the patterns they are officially listing actually match their monetary and resource movement.”

Artoo whistled something she didn’t quite get and she looked at Threepio. “He’s wondering where you got the information you already have, and what you were hoping to compare it to specifically.”

“I’ve got the public record reports that were submitted by the senate committees, but not their internal committee reports. And I have manifests and records from the systems I’m most concerned about.”

Some more beeps were, “Would you like him to consolidate the data and represent it visually for you? He says he can link the visuals to the data tables for quick searching.”

“Would you?” Leia asked, relieved. “It would be a huge help.”

She didn’t need a translation of the affirmative beeps and whistles, and she thanked both the droids before offering to take them home. Artoo opted to stay and get started on his new project, and after some consideration, Threepio decided to stay with him. “To make sure he doesn’t get into trouble. Well, at least not more than he needs to.”

“Alright. Just make sure you let Padmé know that she needs to bring you both home.”

“Yes, of course.”

Checking her chrono, Leia grimaced as she made her way out of the building. It was early. Her sleep was starting to seriously impact her work. She needed to do something about that.

Her immediate plan to the apartment and take a nap failed when she got there and could only toss and turn, sleep evasive in spite of her tiredness. Instead of rest she got wandering thoughts and the quiet that led to things she did not want to be thinking about.

Dodging memories of her father, Luke, a ship whose crew quarters sounded very appealing right now, and the impression of fire in her mind if she spent too much time thinking about Artoo or Threepio, Leia’s thoughts eventually started circling back to the lightsaber hidden in the room.

And how it wasn’t hers.

And how it was somebody’s life, and had ended up in a literal trash heap.

Nothing poetic in that at all.

When sleep proved to be far enough away that it wasn’t worth the effort, Leia threw herself out of bed and stomped over to the lightsaber, pulling it out and turning it over and over in her hands. Flashes of faces she didn’t know clouded her mind and she almost threw it out the window, sick of the whole mess, before she realized there was something so much easier she could do with it.

So she left a note for whoever got back next and hopped onto the rail at the nearest station, lightsaber tucked under the folds of an over robe she had picked up here on Coruscant.

She dreamed in flashes of color and unintelligible sounds with her eyes open all the way to the Jedi temple.

The crowd outside ebbed and flowed as groups approached and left the structure. Ships of all shapes and sizes seemed to be docking in landing bays around the upper levels, many of them personal sized vessels, others definitely not. Some of the crowd that wandered through the gate was pairs of Jedi, or even occasionally a single Jedi or a small group. But mostly it seemed to be scholars, political attachés, or just tourists here for the famed sight of the home of the Order.

“You here to see someone, miss?” sone of the guards asked as she made her way in. She shook her head and he encouraged her to enjoy the grounds and take all the time that she wanted.

Once she had made it inside, past the thick outer walls, the noise dropped off abruptly. Not to silence, but the sounds of Coruscanti traffic were diminished, and the people that moved around out here, many though they were, seemed to have dropped to hushed tones and whispers.

The Jedi were clearly the most prevalent and comfortable people present. Leia wondered what the exact significance was of all the robes they wore and the different colors and styles. Many of the younger ones, looking adolescent as much as she could guess depending on species, seemed to have some sort of braid or chain and short cropped hair where applicable. Younger than that and they usually had some sort of older escort and were dressed in pale colors. And there was a broad mix of ages. Some of the garden paths and groves were usurped by what had to be lessons.

There was an uncanny lack of blasters but an overwhelming number of lightsabers. Leia would have felt more nervous if she hadn’t known she was carrying one herself. For all the sense of peace that Master Gallia had promised, there was an underlying sense of danger that Leia just couldn’t shake.

These people were powerful. And they knew it. And they expected to be treated like it.

She visited a few shrines and eavesdropped on what were probably a couple of informal tours, picking up various historical details about the building and its various structures, but not finding anything useful in the information. She found herself looking up to the central tower, where the High Council supposedly met, and wondered if they were in there and if anyone was looking down into the gardens, amused or irritated or just ignoring the mass of people down here.

“Are you lost?”

The question had an unusual hesitance to it, and when Leia looked up she was surprised to see a face that had the slightest hint of being familiar. Human, possibly mid or early thirties, male, shoulder length hair brushed back, neatly trimmed beard, blue eyes…

She knew him. She just couldn’t place-

“Miss?”

“Sorry,” Leia managed a short smile, hesitant. “No, I’m fine. I mean, I’m not looking for anyone in particular. Although,” she cursed her sleep deprived mind for not linking this past with whatever distant future image. She hadn’t known that many Jedi. “Maybe you can help me. I’m… trying to take care of something.”

“I will certainly do my best,” his expression was pleasant and unsuspicious, but Leia’s skin tingled like he was observing her much more closely than his eyes belied. “Do you need to forward a request for something? I can direct you to where we process submissions. I assume, since you’re here personally, it’s not senate business.”

“No,” Leia shook her head, hand reaching into her robe and noticing that prickling feeling focusing on that movement, even as his eyes stayed fixed on hers. “It’s not exactly personal. I just found something, and I’m not sure what to do with it.”

She’d expected surprised when she pulled out the saber, but what she got was another moment of sharp shock, suddenly there and suddenly gone like she had felt from Master Gallia. It lingered maybe a breath longer as those blue eyes widened and blinked twice, three times, a hand coming forward on instinct and almost snatching before the Jedi caught himself and was just as quickly composed.

“I’m sorry, but there _exactly_ did you find that?”

Hating to have to give the information, but knowing it would be so much more suspicious to conceal, she mumbled, “A junk yard outside of Theed. On Naboo.”

“I’m aware of where Theed is,” the Jedi’s voice trembled slightly, and the hand that had almost snatched the saber flipped over. “May I see it?”

“Of course,” came out of her mouth, but Leia was sure she was bleeding reluctance. It wasn’t hers, no matter if she had found it. She didn’t need to be armed, even if more than half the people around her were. Even the children. “You recognize it?”

There was a somewhat self-recriminating amusement coming from him as he answered, “Yes. It was mine. My last as a padawan. I lost it in a duel-“ He blinked and instead of finishing said, “I’m Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. You are?”

Hoping her shock hadn’t crashed into him the way his had slammed her, she managed, “Leia.” And nothing else.

He seemed confused, but didn’t push. “I hope you’ll forgive me, I was under the impression you were one of the senatorial staff that occasionally visit.”

“I am. That is, I work for Senator Amidala.” He was too smooth. She was tripping over her own tongue like she was a first year senator again and it rankled. She needed to focus. “I wouldn’t consider this official business though.”

“You said it was personal. I assume you were the one that found this. Did the senator recommend you bring it here?”

Shaking her head, Leia said, “No. I just assumed this was the best place to try and return it. Since I was already coming to Coruscant. I didn’t think-“

She had no idea what she had thought anymore. She’d wanted to keep it. She’d wanted to chuck it. She wanted to have nothing to do with it and wanted desperately to make it her own.

(She wanted Luke back, to explain to her again what is was and how it worked and why it was important and to tell her it was okay, she could do this…)

Whatever General Keno- well, not General now- Obi-Wan Kenobi was getting off of her must have been confusing him. Instead of trying to explain it she just looked soulfully at him, hoping he would feel the need to direct the conversation.

He did.

“Thank you for returning this to me,” he said, clipping it to his belt next to the one he was already carrying. “I would never have thought I would see it again.”

“I would never have thought I would be able to hand it to you personally,” Leia said. “I had no idea it was yours.”

Hell, for all she knew it might not be. His emotional reaction could all be a ruse. Or just an easy explanation to quickly get a random citizen to hand over a dangerous weapon.

But Obi-Wan seemed amused at her words. “There are no coincidences in the Force. I don’t usually make a habit of coming out here, but felt drawn here today. I can only imagine that it was exactly for this.”

There was something about how he said it that made Leia suspect he had also been drawn to her, but she didn’t feel up to asking him if he’d had any glittery flashes coming from her direction. She wasn’t even sure if that was how trained Force users saw things like that. “I’m glad I could be of service.”

“Did you have any other business you needed to see to? Or anywhere here in the Temple you wished to go?”

She had a few points of interest she had heard about in her past, but they would all be beyond this public sphere. “No, I just came to see if I could find someone to hand that off too. And to look around. I’ll be heading out now.”

“Then may I escort you to the gate?” He didn’t exactly offer his arm, but the gesture he made to invite her to his side was very polished, and she allowed him because she could acknowledge being impressed. He asked a few polite, inane questions about whether this was her first trip to Coruscant and recommended a few places she should visit including a diner in CocCo Town that sounded slightly seedy and thus very promising.

“I’ve known the owner for years,” Obi-Wan confessed. “Long before he was running the place. He’s something else.”

“A Besalisk?” Leia checked, and Obi-Wan nodded. “I’ll look forward to meeting him.”

“Don’t tell him I sent you,” the Jedi insisted. “He might start telling stories, and he knew me from my first missions.”

It was an offer as much as a plea, and Leia wondered if he had surprised himself with it. “If you promise to tell me all your darkest secrets, I promise I won’t try and get them from anyone else.”

And where the hell had _that_ come from? She knew her father had trusted this man at one point, but that shouldn’t be making an impact on her actions now.

“I think you’re supposed to wait for a second meeting before requesting dark secrets,” he had stepped back a bit, but they were at the gate, so it didn’t have to be nervousness. “It’s part of keeping with appearances, I’m told.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” she promised, feeling on shaky ground again and searching for some way to take back the conversation. He bowed and just as he was turning to go she blurted, “You should cut your hair short.” Well, that had certainly gotten his attention. “Or tie it back. If you’re keeping with appearances.”

There was only the briefest flash of bafflement before he chose to be amused and waved as she turned to go. She glanced back in time to see him walking away, tugging on a chunk of hair as if he was just noticing the length of it.

Well, not ideal, but still. He probably wouldn’t forget her.

Hopefully that was a good thing.

She _really_ needed to sleep.

* * *

Obi-Wan was observing his reflection in a window, running his hands through his hair when Anakin finally found him. “I thought vanity was against the Jedi Code, master.”

There was a rueful chuckle before, “It is. But caring for your body is within Code appropriate behavior, and keeping up appearances is always important. As representatives of the Order.”

Something in “keeping up appearances” had humor radiating off of him, and Anakin wasn’t sure he wanted to know the joke. Also, “Why do you have two lightsabers? Did you steal someone’s? For a prank?”

“I am a Jedi Knight, my very young apprentice,” there was that finger, pointing and shaking in Anakin’s face. He’d hoped that wouldn’t become a habit and was greatly disappointed. “I don’t do pranks.”

“Tell that to Master Yoda,” Anakin grumbled, thinking of any number of misleading comments the grandmaster had made over the last ten years. The old troll loved subtle wordplays and getting people into trouble.

“Fair,” Obi-Wan immediately conceded. “But no, it’s not a prank. It’s my old lightsaber. The one I lost when I was fighting- Maul.” It was a small trip, but the hesitation was there. “One of the Naboo returned it to me.”

“Padmé was here?” Anakin felt something sparkle inside him, looked out the window even knowing that if Obi-Wan were here, she would already have to be-

“No,” his master was far too amused and Anakin glared. “Not the senator. One of her aides. Leia, she said her name was.”

None of Padmé’s friends had been more important than Padmé and Anakin couldn’t have named any of them, so it was no surprise that he didn’t recognize this one. “Did they say she was going to come by?”

“No,” the diminishing patience tone wasn’t much better than the amusement. “Leia was just returning the saber. She barely mentioned the senator at all.”

But at least Padmé was alright. If she hadn’t been mentioned, that meant she couldn’t be in danger because no one was asking for help. That was good. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Extract the crystal, probably, and see if I can use it. The hilt design doesn’t really suit me anymore.”

Knowing what he did about his master’s saber habits, Anakin wasn’t convinced about that. But he also knew that duel with Maul had changed the rules for Obi-Wan about what was good, what was necessary, and what was to be forgotten. “Maybe we should try it out, just to see.”

“Don’t you have course work to finish?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No. What do you think I’ve been doing all evening?”

“I had assumed you went to go see the new ship that came in today and volunteer to help with the test run.”

Well yes, but that hadn’t taken all evening. There was a limit to how much Anakin was willing to beg, and they never told him yes unless it was a star fighter. As if it was safer if he was in one of those. “You underestimate me, master. It’s very disheartening.”

“Show me what you’ve done,” Obi-Wan seemed okay with being teased now. “And then if we have time, maybe I’ll let you help me test my old saber.”


	16. Tactical Governance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... grossly underestimated the reactions people would have to Leia and Obi-Wan's meeting last chapter. Which is kind of silly on my part.
> 
> As a more general note, I've been updating the tags these last few chapters to reflect the broader cast of characters that is actively involved in the plot and will probably update again as more relevant changes crop up. You have been warned.

“So where did you run off to last night?”

Leia had to give Padmé props, she knew when it was pointless to be subtle. “The Jedi Temple. Master Gallia suggested that I visit it sometime, and I’d been meaning to go. I had time yesterday.”

“You got back late.”

That was true. Instead of coming straight back, Leia had wandered for a while, pondering the existence of Obi-Wan Kenobi, trying to remember how her father had described him to her verses how her brother had talked about the Jedi as a ghost.

They’d been painful recollections, constantly tripping over grief from Alderaan and her brother and everyone else she was now missing. “I was thinking about things. Hoping the fresh air would help me clear my head.”

Fresh being a very relative term. Nothing on Coruscant really qualified as fresh air. Although the Temple grounds had been cleaner than most places she was familiar with.

“Did it work?” There was something measured in that question, and Leia wondered what Padmé meant by it. A glance at the handmaidens at the table wasn’t enlightening.

“For a given value of clarity, yes,” Leia admitted. She’d reconciled herself to be at ground level with Obi-Wan, too unsure of his motivations or insights to know how exactly he would be useful to her. Actually, now that she thought about it, “Do you know Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi very well?”

That caught the table by surprise. Eirtaé was frowning, Dormé looked puzzled, and Cordé was smiling in a way that Leia was not sure she liked. But Padmé simply answered, “Not especially well. I knew his master, Qui-Gon Jinn, for a little while during the siege of Naboo. Shmi might remember him. He took charge on Tatooine of getting us ship parts.” The way her mouth moved told Leia her friend had not been happy about that in some way. “Obi-Wan was training with him at the time, but I didn’t spend much time around him. I know he’s a good Jedi though. He fought the assassin the Trade Federation sent after me who was trained with a lightsaber. His master didn’t survive the fight,” she added softly.

Something clenched in Leia’s gut as she recalled the images, visions, she’d experienced as she’d held that lightsaber. “They sent a Sith after you?”

“A what?”

Leia froze. “A dark side Force user. A Sith. The opposite of a Jedi,” she added seeing some confused looks.

“I didn’t think there were any more Sith,” Padmé said after a moment. “I thought they had all been killed a long time ago.”

Never assume that evil is gone, her father had always told her. It has an uncanny tendency to always find a way back, especially in prosperous moments, when it has the most to feed on. “It’s an ideology,” Leia said instead, shrugging. “And training. They may have been dead for a long time, but that doesn’t mean someone couldn’t bring them back.”

“Oh,” Dormé twisted her napkin in her hands. “Do you think they’ll come back now then? Since the Jedi already killed them again?”

A master and an apprentice, Leia thought bleakly. And cursed the Jedi. Keeping people in ignorance was not a good way to protect them.

Specific time traveling exceptions aside, of course (she could almost hear Luke and Han laughing at her).

“You’d have to ask the Jedi,” she decided on. “I’m not really an expert.”

Cordé caught that one as a lie, Leia thought as she took another bite of food. And Padmé might have noticed, because she asked, “How did you meet Obi-Wan?”

“At the temple. He was wandering the grounds.”

After a moment of staring, Padmé said, “He’s training Anakin.”

“Oh?” Leia knew she hadn’t gotten the tone right on that one. She should have been more surprised. Shmi had no idea who Anakin’s master was.

“Since Master Jinn couldn’t,” the senator was ignoring her food, and Leia knew she’d be blamed for that. “He took Anakin as his padawan on Naboo.”

Scrambling for a clever dodge, Leia tried, “Does Shmi know that?”

“I- I don’t think I mentioned it. Not specifically.” Well, flustered was better than on the hunt.

“Padmé,” Eirtaé interrupted, “you need to finish. We have a meeting this morning. The queen is calling.”

There was some deliberation, but Leia decided to stay. There was going to be an official update on the refugee situation, and while she trusted Shmi’s observations it was just as important to know what the higher ups were saying. If they were getting the same information.

Leia also used the time to try and recalibrate after the conversation this morning.

If she kept doing odd things, it would only get harder and harder to explain why.

The council update itself was illuminating. Governor Bibble seemed fine with the policy changes as they hadn’t damaged his image in Theed. Leia made a note to keep an eye on him to see if his support was too fair weather. The other members seemed mostly onboard, with the exception of the head of the cultural preservation committee. No surprises there.

The queen herself seemed delighted, and Leia almost wondered if it was as much finally having something significant to put to her own name as it was the success of the project. But Queen Jamillia had always struck Leia as also having a kind heart, and the queen went on enough about the children that Leia thought she also had personal investment in the project’s success.

“Do you need anything from us to keep things moving smoothly?” Padmé asked once the details had been reviewed.

_“More refugees?”_ Governor Bibble suggested. _“We should probably test this to its breaking point if we can.”_

_“Maybe not that far,”_ the queen corrected. _“But yes, we need more people to help. And more places to send them, if possible. The Gungans have volunteered to give temporary housing to more aquatic species, but they aren’t in a position to take them on personally. We’ll need another planet, possibly several.”_

That was doable, but Leia didn’t say anything as Padmé hedged instead of making promises. Her mind drifted to Senator Darsana, but Leia immediately rejected the thought. The Anselmi had enough territory trouble without introducing another species to the mix.

Although, if they could pick a fully aquatic one… It would be something to occupy the Nautolans. She would have to think about it.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Dormé stretched carefully, making sure not to hit Leia. “Do you think it will continue to work?”

Leia looked at Padmé. “I think we need to talk to Senator Sadashassa. Even if she’s not ready to implement anything we have, letting her know how quickly this is moving is very important.”

“I don’t want to sound like we’re bragging,” Padmé hesitated. “Shea’s been at this a lot longer than I have, especially locally.”

“Ask Threepio to coach you,” Leia suggested. “He’s good at catching major cultural gaffes at least.”

Nodding as she stood Padmé said, “If you don’t need him this morning…”

“He’s all yours.”

* * *

The conference room was empty when Leia got there. She set up, knowing that the meeting had probably been cancelled and Padmé had just been too busy to mention it. Her guess was confirmed when one of the office’s aides, not one of Padmé’s personal ones, ran into the room and apologized for not catching her in time.

“It’s no trouble,” Leia said, already packing her things. “I figured something had come up.”

“Floor vote tomorrow,” the boy, Rashi she thought, managed between breaths. “Something happened and they’re pushing to make a committee for the military stuff.”

Frowning (hadn’t they been doing that already), Leia asked, “A different committee?”

Rashi just shrugged as he followed her out. “Dunno. I only caught a bit of it. The senator’s upset though. They’d been courting people thinking they had more time than this.”

Panic was a close enough description of the feeling dancing in the office when Leia entered it. Padmé was giving instructions on things she wanted people to work on while she was busy with the rest of the coalition. Each of the handmaidens had a world or two to approach, gauging interest. Leia hoped there would be a lot more people on that list. She didn’t like how it looked from here.

“Do you need me to do anything?” she asked, stepping further into the room.

Padmé shook her head, “Not unless you know people.”

“Mostly only the Loyalist Committee,” Leia had to admit. “Do you know if anyone else needs help though? Has anyone talked to the Jedi about this?”

It slid off her tongue without thinking and everyone who heard her went quiet. It was Padmé that answered, “The High Council will meet with the Chancellor to deal with the logistics of things that involve them. But they stay out of the details of Senate business.”

“When they’re the enforcement?” that sounded wrong, but she shouldn’t be surprised. “Can they at least speak to their friends? Not persuade but test the waters? Gather information?”

“They really don’t like implying they’re favoring any particular delegates,” Cordé was shaking her head. “As though inaction isn’t just as bad in most cases.”

Yes, well, never ask a Jedi to solve a problem before they’d tried to meditate about it. Luke had gotten more and more frustrating on that point as things had gone on.

Although he had been nervous, always wanted to get things right, (she’d had no idea how it worked, wanted nothing to do with it, if she’d just been there, supported him…), and her brother had been nothing if not incredibly responsible for things he had nothing to do with.

“I can at least wander the halls,” Leia offered. “Take Artoo and Threepio. Gather information. Nothing helps more than a lot of gossip at times like this.”

And the droids wouldn’t miss anything important, or forget it. They wouldn’t even have to be advised beyond follow and listen. They were smart enough for this.

Twelve hours later, Leia was on clean up duty, making sure that the senators that were still in the building had eaten sometime that evening and were getting rides home if they weren’t flying themselves.

“It’s no fun sleeping on a desk,” Leia told Shea, “no matter how good it sounds.”

The Herdessan chuckled as she shoved herself away from her work. “We’re not ready for this,” she whispered, glancing around at the few other members still in the room. “We’ve been trying to put it off…”

“Civil war conflict,” Leia was just as quiet in return. “No one’s ever ready for that. For what it really means.”

That there were people around you, neighbors and lovers and friends, that you couldn’t believe in, couldn’t trust. That you might be smiling today and outright enemies tomorrow. And the people you might need to rely on, who might agree with you in principle, were people you would almost rather die than work with.

To say nothing of the _scale_ of the conflict. The Rebellion had traveled the length and breadth of the galaxy, but their problem had been that, so often, there was enough of a semblance of peace. And no one wanted to release that.

“Has anyone _had_ any successful contact with the Separatists?” she asked, watching Shea’s reaction.

It was very muted. “Not officially, no. Almost all of us know someone, personally, that felt they had to secede on a matter of principle or honor. A few because they would have lost the support of their planet. Most of us that are left that _want_ to negotiate are suffering from similar conflicts, but have an older system in place that makes us harder to supplant, even if our constituents turn against us.”

Naboo appointed people to the post though the queen, it didn’t hold a general election. Alderaan had an election, but it was based on delegates that were preselected by the council, which was how Leia had even been considered. To say nothing of other systems where the local government wasn’t elected, and they appointed their representatives.

What a mess.

“Do you know if Jar-Jar Binks is coming?” she asked Shea, not really expecting her to know. They’d left the Gungan to help with the refugee settlement (and it had been almost shocking to realize that he was Junior Representative), but he would probably have been a great help in a moment like this. No one could accuse him of being anything less than sincere.

“Padmé hasn’t mentioned it to me, but that isn’t unusual. She plays things pretty close to the vest.” Shea quirked a brow, “Another thing you two have in common.”

“Politics are politics,” Leia suggested, giving the senator a knowing look. “You play things pretty close with me.”

“Less than you might think,” Shea was just smiling now, and there was something surprisingly affectionate in it. “Which probably means you’re right and I should head home to bed. All our people we need to lock in have already gone home. I’ll be of more use in the morning if I don’t keep wasting away like this.”

Offering a hand that the senator accepted, Leia kept steady and pulled Shea to her feet. “Take care of yourself,” Leia said. “However this ends, it’ll be a long fight ahead.”

Tapping Leia on the nose, Shea actually giggled. “Pretty sure I should be the one telling you that.”

Leia hoped she hadn’t actually blushed. She wasn’t that bad.

* * *

It was surprising how similar and different the senate floor was in this time.

Leia looked over the hover pods, the round chamber, the dais in the middle that rose and fell at different times when the Emp- Chancellor used it, the sporadic and thus dramatic lighting.The echoes of the chamber, carrying the muted tones of even the lowest whisper.

In other ways, it was completely different.

There was a sense of purpose in the room now that Leia might not have noticed had she not been in the same environment when it was not present. Representatives visited each other in different pods, conducting last minute business before the floor opened. That never happened in the world she remembered. Business had always been conducted in fine restaurants or exclusive clubs, maybe in the offices (or even chambers) of the Emperor’s closest associates. The senate floor had just been the stage from which the Emperor had announced his edicts and the desires of his sycophants that he was willing to allow for a time.

There were also more representatives. Each pod was actually filled, and most spots had more representatives in them than Leia was used to.

It was a little overwhelming.

“The first time is the hardest,” Dormé whispered into Leia’s ear. She was smiling reassuringly and Leia smiled back, letting her ruefulness at getting caught staring carry a slightly false message. “Don’t worry, you’ll adjust.”

“I plan to,” Leia whispered back, turning to look out over the room again. This time her gaze was more deliberate, slowly moving across the room and testing her knowledge of the people she saw.

Orn Free Ta was present, which made her skin crawl slightly. Then there were dozens of others that fell under her gaze but brought no sense of recognition. There were a series of Nemoidians, which also made Leia twitch, more because of the stories from Padmé than her own distant history. There was Mon Mothma in her pod with a number of other delegates, probably trying to organize how this morning’s vote was going to go, reassuring them in that gentle put steadfastly firm way she had.

Bail Organa.

Even expecting him, Leia felt a strong tightening in her chest as her eyes landed on him. He was smiling, laughing with some of his associates and shaking hands confidently.

Also securing votes. Her father had always turned up his indefatigable charisma when he was working the hardest to get what he wanted.

There were others that Leia recognized, but most were unfamiliar to her. The variety of species that were less humanoid impressed her. And horrified her. Because their lack of being present in her memories had no good implications about how they had been made to disappear. And in a relatively short time.

Thousands of systems, removed from the circle of power that had once been the Republic.

How had they ever thought that the New Republic would work itself out?

“Padmé,” Dormé greeted as the senator arrived, smiling confidently. “Did you make your rounds?”

“Of course. We should have everything in place for stopping more aggressive action.”

Leia’s eyes drifted towards the Neimoidians, and then back across the room to the Banking Clan representatives. “Did we secure much of the Outer Rim votes?”

Dormé frowned and Padmé’s brows drew together a little. “I believe we had a senator working on them, but it wasn’t Bail or me. I think we’ll be alright. They’re usually pretty reliable. A prolonged conflict doesn’t work for them.”

“Unless it creates a standing army that can be repurposed to fight pirates,” Leia suggested quietly, with growing unease. With Count Dooku’s success in assembling the Separatist congress, they had a slimmer margin for error than Padmé probably believed. And somehow Leia had failed to properly convey that.

Fortunately, “We’ll have some time to make opening remarks,” Padmé said confidently, catching Bail’s eye from across the floor and tapping her wrist. “I’ll give Bail warning about what we might expect.”

That brought relief. The smallest bit.

Now was the tricky part. Making herself stand back and just watch.

It was awful.

Not that she'd had many opportunities to take the floor during her short time as senator. Emperor Palpatine had had little time to offer to anyone not himself, or singing his praises. She'd spoken the most in committees, and that in direct proportion to how much the committee had mattered. The more it had mattered, the less safe to have said.

Now, there was an open debate on the floor and Leia had to bite her tongue and squeeze her hands behind her back to remind herself to stay behind, to say nothing, don't interrupt.

This wasn't her fight. She shouldn't have come.

It was like watching Luke flying, she thought distantly. She knew what he was doing, saw the beauty of it, could even imagine what it felt like, and how his trust in the Force just made everything right. But she wouldn't do it herself. It was his battlefield up in the sky. Her place was… her place was down below. Planning. Watching. Being ready when the ships started to go down.

The first big hit was from the Neimoidians, irritatingly enough. "Wouldn't you agree, Senator Amidala, that a standing Republic army would be of great benefit to a planet like yours. You have had some difficulty in the past, have you not, with keeping your people safe?"

It was a low blow, and did earn a rushed murmur, but it was a risky one, and one that Padmé, though clearly angry, was ready for.

"I don't understand why the Trade Federation is so constantly insistent that they personally need access to an army," Padmé shot back. "Naboo has no need of military forces if the members of this Republic are willing to acknowledge its sovereignty and treat it with equitable respect. We have _never_ ," she added, "been under assault by any forces from outside the Republic."

It was a good sting, but led to several minutes of vicious chaos. And did not change the point made by Malastare, "Yes, but even if Naboo has not been attacked yet, Count Dooku is building a coalition of systems that stand in opposition to the Republic. Surely we must consider how this changes the circumstances."

"We have plenty of open lines for negotiation," Mon Mothma interjected, responding to some signal that Bail had sent. "Many representatives of these systems have been our close friends. Have served in this Senate. If they have objections to our governance, we have an obligation to hear them, and allow them the representation they were granted as members of the Republic."

"But they're not anymore!" someone shouted, and Leia had to agree with them. Treaties had been signed in some cases. Having a voice in the senate for some of these systems would mean renegotiating entrance to the Republic.

And that, Leia knew from personal experience, would be a mess.

She’d tried so hard, she thought, hands throbbing from how tightly she held them. Why was it never enough?

(Luke had always managed. Always. Always, always, always. Except…)

It hurt.

But she swallowed the grief and pain and failure and stepped forward slightly, reminding Padmé of her presence. That the senator wasn’t alone.

She could feel the comfort and Padmé’s confidence as she noticed Leia and knew it gave them both hope.

It still felt like a failure when a committee was voted in to investigate what resources the Republic had available to create a standing army.


	17. Silent at Your Grave

“Your friend is charming and lovely.”

Leia ignored the words that she shouldn’t have been listening for, smiling at Senator Onaconda and nodding at what he was saying.

“And what would your wife think of that?” Padmé whispered back to her friend, and Leia wished she had the self-control to tap out and ignore the conversation.

“She’d agree with me. Why haven’t you introduced us?”

“She’s been overwhelmed, Bail. Give her some time.”

“She seems fine now.”

Leia tried to reengage with her conversation partner, to ignore the subtle truth that underlay what Padmé had just said.

She’d noticed. She’d noticed that Bail Organa made Leia uncomfortable. Padmé was going to try and control the first meeting with him. Maybe even give Leia warning, a chance to back out.

She _had_ been doing that, Leia realized with a lurch. And she’d had been taking Padmé up on it. Leia had met everyone else from the coalition, except Bail. Because Padmé had always offered her a discreet escape.

This was going to be a mess.

“-won’t press the issue,” she caught Bail saying, more softly now. “I just wonder what I, or my people have done to offend her.”

There was an appreciable pause before Leia caught Padmé’s whispered, “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

And wondered what impression exactly she had given, to make Padmé as uncertain as that.

When she was finished with Senator Onaconda, Leia considered going over to meet Senator Organa, but eventually decided against it. She wasn’t sure she wouldn’t start crying all over him, and that would be easier to deal with not in a room full of people she needed to work with.

And also because Senator Sadashassa came over, offering Leia a drink and whispered warning, “The Chancellor wants to meet you.”

Yes, one emotional nightmare of a meeting was enough for today.

“You must be our new consultant,” the mild tone sent ice down her spine as it always did, somehow worse coming from a face that was younger and more vibrant than the one in her memory. Leia swallowed bile, twitched her lips into a nervous smile, and found the floor with her eyes as often as possible. For now, shy was the best she could manage.

“I’m working on behalf of Naboo, yes,” she murmured, playing with her glass, glancing up through her lashes. “Senator Amidala was good enough hire me.”

“And you were good enough to be hired by her,” seeing him smile so much was unnerving. And so was the lack of… anything around him. There was a mild pleasantness, but it didn’t seem to be coming from him. More like a cloak he was wearing.

Leia wondered what she felt like to him and hoped that whatever training she had been doing wasn’t enough to make her more noticeable than her first days in the senate.

She’d need to consult a Jedi about that wouldn’t she, dammit.

“I’ve been very grateful for the opportunity. Although I wish I were doing more to help.”

“Yes, this is a dreadful business,” every movement, every sigh was so exaggerated. Leia was exhausted just watching him. “One does not want civil conflict in the galaxy. I have to adhere to the will of the senate, of course, but it will strangle negotiations if the Separatists find out about this.”

Surely he wasn’t planning on keeping it from them? That wasn’t remotely possible. The results of floor votes were public. “What was the vote listed as on the official register?”

“A vote on a committee to investigate our aid resources,” he answered promptly, obviously pleased with himself.

Leia had to bite her tongue to not point out that if the vote had _failed_ , that would have been bad for the senate, in the Republic if not out of it. But then, that was exactly what he wanted, wasn’t it? She’d need to make sure Padmé knew about that. And Senator Organa. And probably Shea too. They would understand, and have influence in the future.

“You have a plan for everything, Chancellor,” she managed after a moment. She hoped he took her silence for awe.

There was the sound of footsteps, the swish of fabric, and a hand tucked itself through her elbow. “Are you saying hello to our newest member?” Padmé’s voice held fondness, but there was something tremulous and aching in her that Leia tried to avoid noticing. “She’s been working wonders for us.”

“So I’ve been told. I haven’t been able to see any of her reports yet, however. Are they still in the works, or do I need to scold my secretary again?”

“Still in the works,” Leia said before Padmé could answer. “I had some preliminary ones that were done on a very small scale, but I haven’t presented my new findings to any committees yet.”

She’d surprised him. “You’re presenting to the committee? Well, well. Senator, it looks like you’ve finally taken my advice and claimed a protégé. How marvelous. Such a pity you couldn’t find anyone in the youth legislative program.”

Something wrenched in Padmé then, and Leia wondered what that was about. “I’ve done my best to mentor all of the people that I’ve worked with,” the senator said, her fingers a little tighter on Leia’s arm. “Of course, I’m still also being mentored myself. Senator Organa has been a tremendous help in teaching me how to navigate the senate and still hold to my principles.”

 _That_ was an accusation, and while Palpatine might look like it had stung him, Leia was pretty sure it rolled right off him. Or hit his pride, rather than his conscience.

Leia was fiercely proud of her father just then.

“Well, I hope that you and he can do better finding votes for us going forward. Our efforts at negotiation will be for nothing if we’re overtaken by the bureaucrats.”

Padmé’s answering smile was thin. Thankfully, someone came and caught the Chancellor’s attention and he drifted away to condole with another member of the Loyalist Committee.

“That wasn’t very kind,” Leia remarked, taking the smallest sip of the drink Shea had brought her. A very mild wine. Shea was a good friend.

Her lips managed a smile, but Padmé’s voice was tight as she answered, “We had a bit of a falling out when I let Bail look after me when I got started here. At first I just didn’t want to waste the Chancellor’s time. I didn’t have a claim on him, in spite of our history. And I didn’t want to start any talk, or make it look like he was playing favorites. But…” she spun her glass in her hands, “he just doesn’t do what he says he should.”

There was an impulse to offer comfort. To make inane statements about how difficult politics was, how as Chancellor he had to balance so many interests, how it wasn’t anyone’s fault…

And then Leia remembered who he was, and what he was doing here, and it took all her strength not to scream at him from across the room. To shout his crimes to the sky and reveal him for the fraud he was.

She had no proof and would only make things worse.

But the temptation was strong.

Instead she said, “I’m glad you found someone who could be a trustworthy mentor. Senator Organa makes sure everything he does _is_ in line with his principles. And while I know you’re naturally inclined to be that way as well, it’s always nice to have support. And someone to show you the ropes.”

There were so many questions in Padmé’s eyes when Leia stopped speaking, but they would have to wait. Even if her friend had voiced them, Leia would have never answered them here.

* * *

It was another three days before Leia worked up the courage to have Padmé introduce her to Senator Organa. It took a while to find the right excuse, but eventually she managed, “Would you mind formally introducing me to Bail Organa? Threepio says Alderaanian tradition respects the commendation of mentors or teachers.”

True in that Threepio had probably said that at some point in her life. Not this Threepio, here and now, but one of them.

There’d only been the slightest hesitation from Padmé before she had agreed and Leia took it as a good sign, mostly from desperation.

She could barely breath when she was led into the office.

Nothing was different from her memory. The decorations were sparse, a few hints to his homeland’s culture. But this was his place of work to reach out to the galaxy, and he’d carefully curated it to be as unimposing as possible. The scent of his favorite tea was a lingering hint in the air and Leia’s knees almost buckled as she realized that she had forgotten it.

His hair was darker, his face less lined. But she could remember everything about him so clearly in that moment. In a few years’ time, he might have been her father, the one in all the happy memories of her childhood.

Hating her weakness (in all fairness to herself, she would have never really been ready for this), Leia found her eyes automatically drifting down, her hands seizing as she forced them not to clench into fists. Her eyes burned, but she refused to shed tears.

One second, three, four. Leia made sure her breathing was under control and her face was at least passive as she finally looked up, catching the tail end of Padmé’s greeting. “-since we had some time. If it’s no trouble.”

“Not at all,” Senator Organa (he had to be Senator Organa, not Papa, she couldn’t let him be Papa) smiled as he turned to her, and it only faltered a little. Leia forced her face to relax, her lips to make a pleasant gesture. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you, and I’ve been anxious to meet you.”

She caught the hint of suspicion on him and was hurt by it until she realized what it was. Concern, for Padmé. Leia was new, and a stranger, and Padmé was his friend.

He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

It should probably have worried Leia more that his suspicion made her relax, but there was just something about it. Something so calm and soothing to see him acting in the defense of another. And it gave her a good idea of where she stood. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. Though I understand you’ve been quite busy these past weeks.”

“We have,” he agreed, offering his hand to her, and she was very proud that she managed to shake it and pull back before she started trembling (there would be no escape if she threw herself into his arms and started weeping). “And we’ll be busy for a while, yet I’m sure. Probably better that you see me now, before we’re really in for it.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” it was hard to make the words sound right, they felt so inadequate. And she had to keep smiling even though (I’ve seen you weeping, she thought, horror creeping over her. I know your birthday and your anniversary and how you like to spend time with your wife, and what you sound like when you yell at your daughter because she’s terrified you, and I’ve watched you bend and bow under the darkest pressure and never yield, and I watched you die because I couldn’t save you, I’ve felt you leave the universe.) she didn’t feel like smiling at all. “I doubt you’ve ever been at a loss yet.”

That twitch of his lips was an aborted smile over a personal secret. Probably something to do with her mo- with Queen Breha, Leia thought, if the shift of his eyes and the hint of a blush was any clue. “Not often. And I try not to repeat my mistakes.”

“They’re hard enough to swallow the first time?” Leia found herself asking, hoping for reassurance and realizing he had no idea that was what she was looking for.

And yet, “Pain is never easy,” he said, and she could _feel_ him looking at her, trying to see something he knew he was just missing. “I think we all try not to repeat it. But if we can’t avoid it-“

“Then we carry on,” she finished, feeling the start of her own blush as she realized what she had done, reciting his words from memory.

His look was pensive and mild, but she knew she’d really startled him. “Yes. We carry on. For those who continue to need us.”

_“Do whatever is necessary. And don’t look back.”_

“We do.”

Leia managed not to shudder, to end the conversation quickly and politely and without collapsing into complete and utter panic.

And then she left Padmé and left the building and didn’t stop moving until she had found herself once again at the Jedi Temple, surging through the gardens to someplace quiet where she curled up in on herself from every possible angle and wept and wept and wept.


	18. The Negotiator

Jedi weren’t a rare sight in the Executive Building, but Leia hadn’t been expecting this one. “Master Kenobi!”

He turned in surprise, and she almost smiled as she watched his hand move as though he would run it through his hair, then stop midway. It was even more delightful when he grimaced as he realized she had noticed. “Miss… Leia. How are you doing?”

Dreadful. She’d been trying to help with the actions against the Military Creation Act while also reviewing the data Artoo had compiled for her. And, since she was also doing her level best to avoid all of her feelings, she’d been running on progressively less sleep.

“I’ve been better. The Confederacy of Independent Systems is giving us a lot to think about and we’ve been having trouble arranging some of the negotiations.”

“So I’ve heard,” Obi-Wan fell into step beside her, indicating she should lead the way. “The Jedi are doing what they can, but there are limits to the kinds of conflicts that we can reconcile. It’s only reasonable that those who feel neglected would band together to voice their complaints.”

She gave him a long look. “I’m surprised to hear you say that.”

He laughed. “Because Jedi are always wise and mysterious?”

“I was thinking more that in the middle of a bunch of senators and their aides was not the ideal place to voice that,” she countered, and got to see an interesting mix of chagrined and impressed on his face.

“True. I like to think though, that since nobody has declared war yet, it’s still safe to voice a broadminded opinion on the subject.”

Leia frowned. “You think it will come to that?” she asked softly.

“No,” it came out strong, and she wondered if she had surprised him. “No, I don’t think we’re heading for a civil war. But I wouldn’t be surprised if there were some major upheavals in several sectors in order to keep the peace. They’re going to have to break up the Banking Clan and the Trade Federation, at least as far as their business goes, if we’re going to keep the peace.”

“With what leverage?” she asked, curious what else he knew.

Apparently not much, because he shrugged. “Thankfully, that is for the Council to figure out, and not part of my job. At least,” he looked back the way he had come, “not yet. And I hope they know I’m not going to be very useful for this.”

“This?”

He looked a bit guilty. “A Jedi assignment. One I got roped into because we’re still not ready to leave the planet. It should be brief, but now that I’m missing Master Gallia…”

“Is she alright?” Leia only had a vague impression of the Tholothian, but she’d seemed in good health only a week ago. Had she been removed from her post working with the senate?

“Oh yes,” Obi-Wan reassured, gesturing for her to step into the lift before him.When the doors closed he added, “She’s been given another assignment, one that takes priority over this ghastly dinner. I was supposed to be her second, so to speak, and now I’ll be taking point.”

As they exited onto their floor, Leia asked, “Are the Jedi mediating at the banquet for the Outer Rim systems?”

“Ah, right. Naboo was one of the delegations that was invited. Yes, that one.” He shook his head. “I’m really not the best one to bring in to negotiate, but I don’t think that’s the point. I imagine they want a Jedi there for the gravitas, and to keep a hand on things if they get heated. I’m hoping at most I prevent any outright fights springing from the debates. But I’ll confess to being woefully underprepared. Anakin and I have been taking a lot of missions off world, and I’m not as up to date on- Leia? Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she said on instinct, and got a look so familiar from the sheer volume of faces she’d seen it on she felt comfortable giving her most pointed look back. “I’m fine.”

“You are now. I said something that… surprised you.” And not just surprised, she could see him not saying.

But she didn’t have an obligation to explain to him, so she just kept walking. “I just wouldn’t have thought the Jedi would send someone who wasn’t prepared. Aren’t there other Jedi who are familiar with the senate?”

“More than a few,” Obi-Wan agreed. “But the Chancellor apparently asked for my presence. I have a… reputation for being valuable during negotiations.”

More than that, if Leia remembered correctly. But she didn’t push. “The Chancellor himself asked?”

“I don’t claim much credit for that,” Obi-Wan seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden. In a way that was more under Leia’s skin than being picked up by her eyes. “He’s taken a keen interest in Anakin, my apprentice,” he added at her confused look. “He’s something of an- of a prodigy, even among the Jedi, and the Chancellor has been interested in his progress.”

Each word made something sink in Leia’s heart. And she’d noticed his slip, wondered which exact word he had chosen to switch out. Didn’t like the immediate options that sprang to mind. “Surely the Chancellor can’t dictate the Jedi Council.”

“Dictate, no,” Obi-Wan agreed. “But strongly suggest, he regularly does. And the Council trusts his assessment of the political landscape. Especially when others like Master Gallia aren’t available.”

They’d reached her office and Leia stopped to look at Obi-Wan. To really think about all he had just said. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought you’d asked,” he smiled benignly. She didn’t trust it. “And I wanted your opinion. Naboo’s position on the conflict with the Separatists has my personal support, although strictly speaking I’m as neutral as any Jedi. A war will only lead to death and heartbreak, and none of us want that.”

All true, yet, “And what else?”

“Really, I just wanted to pick your brain a bit. One of the senators in the meeting mentioned you were something of a subject matter expert as to the causes of some of the conflict. I’d hoped to get some advice, or at least an idea of the tone you thought these meetings would have.”

The door slid open and she gestured with her head for him to come in. “I’ve got a report I’ve been meaning to give to the Loyalist Committee. If you’ve got forty minutes, I can show you the highlights.”

Relief, pure and simple shimmered off of him and Leia was struck again by how _real_ his feelings were, like Master Gallia’s. “I would greatly appreciate that.”

“Come on. I’ll have Artoo get things warmed up. Tell Threepio what you’d like to drink. And don’t say nothing. You’ll break his heart.”

There was the briefest impression of surprise at her words, but he requested tea when the protocol droid approached.

* * *

The steady stroking of his beard was starting to get on Leia’s nerves. Less because of the tic itself and more because she knew he was thinking lots of different things and he wasn’t sharing his thoughts. And she needed to know what Kenobi was thinking.

“Does it make sense?” she asked, sure he had forgotten she was there.

His slight jump said more than his silence. “Oh, yes. It’s… quite a lot isn’t it? And this is only the highlights? Not the details you’ve unearthed?”

“The things I feel I have the best odds of getting taken seriously when I present them to the delegates,” she said, leaning an elbow on the desk to get a more direct look at him. “I’m honestly not sure anymore how to begin to classify which problems as the most serious. I’m not familiar enough with the ground situation in any of these places. I’ve started doing some general news searches to try and overlay basic patterns, but…”

“What you need are the Jedi incident reports,” he muttered, scrolling through to different sections. “I’m not familiar with all the conflicts or situations, but I recognize the names of most of these systems. I’ve heard them in conversation recently.” His brow was deeply creased between his eyes and Leia fought the sudden impulse to poke it. “I’m worried that the Confederacy might have a deeper hold than we thought.”

It was a relief it was to hear him say it. To have him see, so clearly, the scale of what she was afraid of and acknowledge it. “Or at least have better openings. I don’t know what their resources are for negotiation with other wavering planets. Obviously enough they now have their own congress, but still.”

“Diplomatic teams take years and significant manpower to put and keep together,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Which suggests either they aren’t interested in the long term, they’re overconfident, or they know something we don’t. Have resources, as you said, that we don’t suspect.”

Leia’s money was on all three. She wished she knew more about the Clone Wars. Never mind not knowing exactly where the Republic had gotten its army, she barely knew anything about the forces they had fought against. But the war had lasted at least three years, strung out across the galaxy. And the damage from that time was still being addressed in her adulthood. Which suggested a lot of resources on both sides.

“I think-“

She was interrupted by the door opening and Cordé saying, “Have you had lunch yet? Padmé was wondering- Oh.” It was a flicker of the eyes, a subtle gesture of the fingers, and a quirk of the mouth as she asked, “Am I interrupting?” But Leia knew what it meant.

“No,” she said with as much disinterest as she could manage. “Master Kenobi is just looking over my project. I was getting his advice on planetary conflicts and how they might match up.”

“Padmé will lose her mind if you keep expanding this project,” Cordé wasn’t laughing, but Leia soaked up the humor coming off the woman and noticed Obi-Wan subtly doing the same, his mouth hidden behind his hand. “And she’ll want to know you’ve been entertaining guests.”

“Would you like to see her?” Leia asked Obi-Wan, standing. “I’m sure you’d be welcome to join us for lunch.”

She couldn’t interpret what exactly he was weighing as he thought about it, but he nodded. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea. I may need to ask her if I can steal you for a bit.”

Cordé’s cough was almost a choke, and Leia ignored it. “I’m a bit busy today, but if you have time tomorrow?”

“Ah, I was actually thinking about the party,” he admitted, looking guiltily between them. “If Senator Amidala doesn’t already have plans for you. And if it would be alright.”

“Subject matter expert?” she supplied, knowing this was going to be talked about extensively when they got home tonight.

“If you don’t mind.”

“We’ll have to confirm with Padmé, but I don’t have any objections.”

He didn’t turn his head, but his eyes did drift to Cordé at the pulse of…something Leia didn’t quite catch. “I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it.”

* * *

“It isn’t fair,” Anakin stared out the window, willing himself not to whine. “He knows I’m qualified to go with him, and he’s still taking someone else. Not even a Jedi!”

The Chancellor moved up next to him, also watching the lines of traffic. “I know. I’m very sorry, Anakin. I had hoped he would choose to bring you when I recommended him. Of course, it wasn’t a stipulation. And with Master Gallia backing out, I can hardly retract the request.”

“Of course not,” Anakin tried to look up, faltered, and felt his eyes move to the floor again. “I wouldn’t expect you to do that. Master Obi-Wan _is_ qualified. He should be there.”

“But you had hoped he trusted you enough to bring you with him,” the amount of empathy in the Chancellor’s voice was almost uncomfortable. The feel of it almost swallowed Anakin as he stood there, just trying to keep his emotional balance

He was _not_ out of control because he was too young. “I heard… Is Pa-Senator Amidala going to be there?”

He knew the answer. Knew Obi-Wan was taking one of her people, someone else from Naboo, to be his partner for that evening. But it still stung when the Chancellor said, “Of course. I think they’ll be seated next to each other. The groups, that it. I don’t know exactly where the senator and your master will be seated.”

Something gnawed at Anakin’s insides, and he tried to swallow it, to beat it down like he’d always been able to do. “Well, I hope he enjoys himself then. And doesn’t make a fool of himself. It would be terrible if he made Naboo look bad.”

“I’m sure he’ll do his best.”

The amusement was even worse than the empathy. He should never have talked about Padmé to the Chancellor.


	19. War Rooms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is impressive how ten seconds of Palpatine talking to Anakin unearths such a depth and breadth of rage that lingers in the hearts of readers.

The look on Eirtaé’s face was almost worth the misery of having this conversation. “You got invited to the dinner by a _Jedi_?”

“I didn’t think they were allowed to date,” Cordé’s face was half hidden by her drink, but even if Leia hadn’t spotted her crinkled eyes, her amusement was dancing clearly about the room. “He must fancy you.”

“You mean my brilliant and neurotic mind?” Leia shot back, keeping half her attention on Padmé. She’d been a bit somber since lunch. “He did make it clear he wanted me there for professional reasons.”

“For a man trying not to appear to be taking sides, he’s making quite the statement,” Eirtaé pointed out. “I’m not sure we should have said yes to this.”

It was Dormé who countered, “It will be a mixed reception. If we style it correctly, Leia can come across as looking more independent. She’s not a handmaiden, specifically recruited to Padmé’s service. If she’s seen with someone as neutral as a Jedi…”

“More people might talk to her,” Padmé agreed, still looking solemn. She faced Leia directly. “What do we tell Shmi?”

Oh. Right. Leia hadn’t thought of that. “The truth. I’ve been invited to the party by Anakin’s Jedi master. It’s an event for work. From what Ob- Master Kenobi was saying, he won’t be bringing Anakin along.”

The name still tasted wrong. She could say it to Shmi easily enough, when they were talking about his childhood stories. But when Leia said it, in her own context, she was always swallowing Vader first. And burying the memories that came with it.

“She’ll understand,” Cordé said, surprisingly not teasing Leia about her slip. “She’s chosen not to approach him yet. Maybe this will be a good chance to get some information and see where things stand.”

It would be difficult, Leia thought. She didn’t know Obi-Wan well enough to guess at how mentioning his padawan or asking about Anakin’s past might set things off. Especially since Kenobi already seemed to think of his apprentice as a… _prodigy_. “If we’re having me act as an independent agent, how much do we want to collaborate on this?”

They spent the rest of the evening hashing out details and finished the night with a few rounds of target practice. Everyone seemed to be a bit off.

Just before they went to bed, Padmé pulled Leia aside. “You don’t have to do this,” she said once they reached the relative privacy of the balcony. “You’ll be making more of a target of yourself.”

The teasing remark that the last eight months had been the longest she’d lived without a bounty on her head in almost as many years died in Leia’s throat. She managed, “I’m not worried about that. Sometimes we have to take risks to get things done. And this, this needs to get done. We aren’t making enough headway with me just politely waiting for the committee to have time. It can’t hurt to have Jedi support.”

Probably. Hopefully. Leia was also very curious what her appearance with Obi-Wan Kenobi would signal to the senate, and the galaxy at large.

And one man in particular.

“Shmi would be devastated if you got hurt,” Padmé blurted, and Leia was almost shocked.

“I’m going to a dinner party, not a war zone. I mean, well, some of them can be very similar. But this is on Coruscant. The Chancellor will be attending. I’m hardly going to be the biggest target.”

Frankly, now that Leia thought about it, she was much more concerned for the other members who had just submitted a no vote for the military committee. Being at the dinner was probably the only way she would find peace that night. Better to be facing a fight than waiting for it.

“At the party, no,” Padmé agreed. “But you’ve got the least protection of all of us if you do stand out.” Her expression turned stubborn on top of serious. “I may have to ask Captain Typho to arrange security for you afterwards.”

Leia felt her mouth drop. “A personal guard?” she checked. Padmé nodded. “I _really_ don’t think that’s going to be necessary-“

“I’ve heard, from no fewer than ten people, that the first person they think of is me when they see you. I know what I am,” she was smiling, but it was a smile that was as self-deprecating as anything. “And I know what you are too. Better to be ahead of the curve.”

Well, that was fair. There wasn’t anything honest Leia could do to argue with it.

* * *

“May I join you?” Master Kenobi was almost lurking in the doorway, more hesitant than Leia would have expected.

“Of course. What can I do for you?” She gestured to a chair that was in front of her desk, clearing her workspace so that she wouldn’t be tempted to split her attention.

The Jedi took a seat, glancing around at the walls that lacked windows and the dim lighting Leia preferred, an amused note to his voice. “They certainly have you in pleasant quarters, don’t they?”

“It limits my distractions,” Leia confessed, reaching back to the wall controls and adjusting the lights. “I’m told it’s not good for my eyes, but I’ll believe that when I can’t see it.”

It didn’t earn a chuckle, which disappointed her, but his eyes smiled. “My apprentice likes to work in similar conditions when he’s focused on a project. He claims that he works enough by the Force that his eyes aren’t doing much anyway.”

“Your apprentice Anakin?” Leia checked, ignoring the implications of that revelation.

“Yes. I’ll introduce you sometime, when we’re both here. If that’s alright,” he added after a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. Leia knew she hadn’t twitched, but maybe he had felt something.

She was certainly surprised. She would never have guessed that Obi-Wan would want to introduce his padawan to a non-Jedi without an explicit need. But maybe that was just her prejudice speaking and not all Jedi were as aloof as the ones she had seen wandering the building.

“Of course. Padmé was saying she met him during the siege of Naboo.”

“We all met then, yes,” Obi-Wan was smiling, but it was shadowed by a feeling Leia was all too familiar with. We won, but at what cost?

“But that isn’t what you came to talk to me about,” Leia prompted, willing to let the topic drop. There would be plenty of time to trespass on heavy memories later. And as far as people she was happy to _not_ think about…

With a shift that pulled him back to the present, Obi-Wan said, “No. I had hoped to talk to you some more about the dinner. I don’t know how much you’ve been told about it. Or what your plans were.”

“I’ve got a rough outline of the guest list,” Leia said, pulling over the notes she had made based on Padmé and the handmaidens’ conversations. “And an idea of some of the goals the Loyalist Committee is aiming for. But anything you can add, especially in relation to your role, will help.”

“Your friends haven’t filled you in?”

Leia shook her head. “I wasn’t going to be directly involved, and then we decided it was better if I act independently if I’m going with you. The Jedi are supposed to be a neutral party, yes?”

He seemed both relieved and impressed that they had thought of that, and quickly filled her in on the briefing he had been given. She got the impression he was hitting only the most important highlights, and that he was used to this kind of briefing as a form of self defense.

She took notes, let him finish, and then went back and asked him to fill in details, some of which amused him, others that confused, and a couple that had him raising his brows as he answered.

“Forgive my brevity,” he told her after a fourth follow up question on what the Jedi’s position was regarding enforcing trade treaties. “I’m used to working with a slightly less focused audience.”

“Your apprentice doesn’t take an interest in politics?” Leia suggested.

“Not especially. He’s more than happy to let me handle things.” There was an odd expression at the end of that, hinting at something familiar that Leia couldn’t quite place.

She asked, “Is it frustrating that he doesn’t try?”

“Oh, he does try,” Obi-Wan said, leaning back into his chair and stroking his beard. “He’s just rather… direct when he does choose to be involved. And it can lead to… interesting negotiations.”

Remembering her own quick temper and the constant battle to bite her tongue, Leia could only sympathize. “I’m sure he’ll catch on. Once you find the right motivation.”

Obi-Wan didn’t look sure of any such thing, and thinking of that black horror that still loomed in her memory, Leia didn’t blame him. “Did you have any other questions for me?”

“What are you going to wear?” Leia asked, and was both pleased and worried that she had surprised him.

He looked down at himself and then back to her. “This?” Pressing her lips shut, forcing her eyes not to rove over the outfit and catalogue every stain, fray, and tear, Leia counted to ten and held her breath. “It’s not _that_ bad,” he complained. “Jedi robes _are_ formal. They’re traditional.”

“Do you have a set you keep on planet exclusively for formal events?” she asked, working very hard to keep a straight face and even voice.

He still seemed to catch the implications. “I can get access to ones that have seen less field work, yes. These _are_ the set that stay on planet, so that they’re always presentable in a more…”

“Urban environment,” Leia suggested, knowing her lips had twitched.

“Yes, something like that.”

She took a moment to really study him then, leaning back to catch another angle. “Are they all brown?”

“My robes? Certainly. It’s-“

“Traditional?” Leia knew she had a wry smile down to an art. “Do you think you can find anything else traditional with a bit more color? It would be easier to match.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-“

“I’m deliberately not wearing anything that will automatically align me with the Naboo representatives,” she said, standing and walking around the desk to come up to him. He stood as well, and she noted the differences in their heights. “I’m assuming it would be something of a scandal if I showed up in Jedi robes, imitation or otherwise,” and she didn’t want to think about the image that conjured up (wasn’t a Jedi, never a Jedi, should have helped Luke-), so she continued. “But we are going together and it would be better if we were coordinated.”

“That’s true, but-“

“You’d look good in blue,” she said, “not too bright, something a little darker. More muted. It would bring out your eyes. And would be easy to match,” she added when he looked like he was going to protest. “Blues are easy to find.”

“I-I suppose I could try,” he conceded. “If you have a dress in mind, I can look for something to match it.”

She shook her head. “Just send me the dye setting code. You should be able to get it from wherever the item was manufactured. It’ll be a more precise match that way. I was already going to buy something,” she added as he looked ready to object again. “I’m not part of the official entourage. I have to build my own wardrobe.”

“I see,” he didn’t seem happy about it, but looked ready to concede.

Which was good, because, “And can you do something about your hair?” She tried not to stare as his hand made an abortive move towards his head. “You don’t have to cut it. It is yours. But if you could tie it back, or put it partly up- I know some styles that would work,” she added, talking more quickly. “If you come by early enough I can help you find something that would work and you would like.”

She’d have to do some refreshing, and make sure to check current Coruscanti styles so that it didn’t end up too Alderaanian. But so help her, if she had to go with him looking like this (she could almost see her mother, shaking her head and smiling in a way that warned Leia there would be _changes_ ), she couldn’t be liable for what might happen.

“I’ll think about it,” he managed, bowing to her. “And I’ll get you the color code once I’ve found something appropriate. I’ll even have Master Gallia check it first.”

“Thank you,” Leia said as she led him to the door and watched him take his first step out. “Maybe the Force be with you, Master Kenobi.”

He actually stared at her for a second before answering, “May the Force be with you, Leia. Good luck on your work.”

She was certainly going to need it.

* * *

Dawn was just hinting at arriving on the barest sliver of the sky. Leia braced herself against the wall, pulled her knees further up, and glanced back at the holocall in her hand. “I don’t know why I’m doing this,” she admitted ruefully.

Shmi was never one to rush into an answer, but it always made Leia nervous when she had to wait. Shmi also had a tendency to say things that were exactly true and the opposite of what you wanted to hear. _“No one else does either,”_ her grandmother pointed out, hands moving in a gesture that was open kindness to ease the sting. _“It’s not something that you’ve shared with us.”_

“I want the galaxy to be right,” Leia complained, her head falling back as she tried to imagine it as she once had. That perfect conglomeration of worlds. Only now…

Now everything was complicated, and things she had once taken for granted were more important, not less, and things she had thought were essential had fallen to the wayside of maybes, if everything else was working out alright these thing might be nice and (nowhere in this universe was she going to find what she most personally wanted, those arms that had held her and kept her safe, those smiles that had lifted her up when she thought that she had nothing left, those eyes that had looked and known and _seen_ her) she couldn’t pin down what she thought would even be perfect anymore.

She could find happiness in a crowded bunker with cheap liquor and tasteless food rations as long as she was with good friends. She could find courage in the middle of a battlefield, friends and allies dying around her, because she knew her cause was just.

She dreamed of a world where she had never met Darth Vader and nothing that had mattered to her had ever been lost.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t a world where she would be getting what she missed the most.

_“Things do not have to be perfect to be worthwhile,”_ Shmi’s gentleness had hardened some. _“I know you’ve said this, Leia, but I wonder if you’ve ever meant it when it matters most.”_

When, Leia wondered helplessly, would she ever stop being a soft, Core world princess? “I won’t stop fighting if I can’t make things perfect,” she muttered. “I’m not as selfish as that.”

Shmi took a moment to consider that. _“Do you plan to ever stop fighting at all?”_

If she looked straight up she could still see the hint of a few stars in the sky. Dim and wavering, hidden by the harsh aura of the cityscape that covered the planet, but still there, still burning. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I would do if I had to stop.”

_“I meant, do you see a future where there is no need to fight, not will you be forced out of it?”_

No. No, that hadn’t occurred to her at all. Not since (fire, pressure, nothing) Endor. Or Alderaan. Or the whispers of maybe things had been better when someone had taken charge. Maybe not for everyone, but he’d been better than _nothing_. “Will there ever be a world where no one has to fight?”

Because that was how she saw her options. She couldn’t be herself and exist in a place where there would be conflict and she didn’t choose a side of it. Didn’t stand up and take part. Not anymore. Not after everything that had been lost.

_“No,”_ Shmi said, and that simple acknowledgement was a condemnation and a relief. _“But that does not mean you have to spend all of_ your _life fighting.”_

Maybe not. But today, that was just who Leia was. And her past wouldn’t let her forget about it.


	20. Arsenals

Leia sat back on her heels, looking over Artoo’s dome one more time as she made a final swipe with her rag. “There. I think that should do it.” He whistled with pleasure and she patted him as she stood, looking around the room for Threepio. “Now where has your friend gotten to?”

She could only partially interpret the series of whistles and beeps coming from the droid, and accepted that it was either, “I don’t know,” or “I don’t care.”

Which was fair. She couldn’t always be expecting Artoo to keep an eye on Threepio.

“I’d better go find him. He could be getting into trouble.”

The astromech beeped an affirmative and offered to come. They had almost made it to the door when it opened and Threepio shuffled in. “I’m so sorry, Mistress Leia. I meant to return immediately, but I was most inconveniently held up.”

“That’s fine,” Leia said, waving him over so that she could start to buff some of the spots on him. “I’m still taking a break. Where did you get caught up?”

He came over as she had bid and helpfully turned as she worked on different places. “The most peculiar thing. I ran into the Chancellor of all people. Can you believe it?”

Leia paused, her breath catching. “Did you really?” She made sure her hand didn’t tremble. “How did that go?”

“I was incredibly disappointed. The man is a horrid gossip. Would you believe he wanted me to answer questions about you, Mistress Leia? Not even related to your work, which is none of his business I’m sure.”

“It isn’t?” Leia hadn’t considered the matter and was a little surprised. Threepio had always come across to her as chatty. He seemed willing to talk to anyone.

“Certainly not. Especially if you’re not there. How can I know if you want me to tell a thing or not if you aren’t there for reference? Really, it was quite frustrating. And then he wanted to know about your work too, as if I had anything to do with. I’m a protocol droid, I told him. I’m only here to advise you on how to get along with other delegates, by respecting their cultures and such. And he laughed at that!”

The sudden image of Jar Jar appeared in her mind, his frequent comment of “How wude,” almost making Leia smile. “That wasn’t very wise of him. You’re an excellent protocol droid.”

“I am trying,” Threepio said, waving his arms so abruptly that Leia almost took one to the face. “I’ve made sure to constantly update my databases so that I have things to draw from, especially in relation to the current delegates. I’ve cross referenced so many languages and forms of communication to make sure I’m getting local dialects right, I’m not sure which ones are new and which were native to my programing anymore. It’s really quite exhausting. Yes, I know you’ve been busy too,” Threepio snapped when Artoo warbled at the last comment.

“Thank you, Threepio,” Leia said when the resulting beeps from the astromech told her and argument was about to start. “I really appreciate your efforts. And your discretion.”

She had his full attention again. “You would prefer me to continue to not divulge personal details when I’m asked?”

“Yes,” she answered, stepping back to take a good look at him. “And if you could, only discuss details of my work with someone if you’ve heard me mention the topic to them directly. I’d rather they come to me if they want to know about what I’m up to.”

Threepio was only too happy to promise and Leia let both droids go, saying she needed to get back to work.

But it was some time before she could make herself focus again.

Memories of Threepio’s behavior were frequently fuzzy in her memory. She’d considered him more of an annoyance growing up, and had assumed any discretion that he had, he had learned from her father, having been given explicit instructions not to discuss certain topics. He’d never kept any secrets from Luke, but then he’d also considered Luke his master, much like he felt like he answered to Leia. He’d never listened to Han, at least not without being threatened.

Curling up in her chair, Leia thought about how Anakin Skywalker, a slave on Tatooine, was the one that built Threepio. How he was supposed to help Anakin’s mother. How they were all functionally slaves, but there would have been secrets they would have kept, even from their master.

How clever had that boy been, to disguise with rigid politeness and keep away with neurotic evasion?

It was a dark, clever genius, that.

“Trouble?” Leia hadn’t heard Cordé come in, but she smiled once she’d recovered from being startled.

“No,” Leia said. “I’ve just been distracted.”

Humming, Cordé took a seat on the edge of the desk. “We’re thinking of heading home for a bit. Once the dinner’s past.”

“That sounds lovely,” Leia confessed. “I think I’ve reached another major block on my project, and won’t get anywhere with it until we get the committee to make some moves.”

“Talk to Padmé, get her permission to run it by some of them one on one. Maybe get her to hand off the refugee project as well. It’s past time we showed Senator Sadashassa. Throw it in with some trade negotiation ideas to soften her up.”

“I don’t think she does soft,” Leia sat up, already grabbing a datapad and checking to make sure the relevant documents were on it. “But I’m willing to try it.”

* * *

Apparently Padmé had a secret passion for shopping.

This shouldn’t have surprised Leia. The senator had an extensive wardrobe, coordinated and cross coordinated, containing dresses and headpieces and jewelry and accessories and shoes. So. Many. Shoes.

Not that Leia didn’t know what a state wardrobe could be like. She’d had her own collection of gowns, robes, dresses, casual outfits, all carefully styled and arranged and tailored so that she always came off as looking a bit more professional or put together than the average person.

But Padmé apparently went above and beyond even that, and now Leia was getting first hand experience.

“I thought we weren’t going to coordinate,” she said, forcing herself to not back away from the trio in front of her. “I was just letting you know where I was going so you would know where to reach me.”

Dormé, of all people, seemed to be smirking, and it was Eirtaé who was looking at Leia pityingly. Padmé was simply resolute. And a bit too cheerful. “There is a complete difference between us giving you clothes to wear that belong to us, and us helping you find the best outlets.”

“I’m really not sure-“

“We’ll be able to introduce you to the right people,” Padmé added, already vibrating with excitement.

“And get you discounts,” Dormé added, her smile sliding back into something more kind and less mischievous. Although that could be a trick. Now Leia wasn’t sure. “There are people who will be friendly with certain systems or delegations.”

“Or committees,” Eirtaé added.

Padmé stepped forward. “The point is, Leia needs to go shopping and it will be so much more efficient and useful if she doesn’t go by herself.”

Which was the exact moment that Padmé’s comm went off and she excused herself to the other side of the room for relative privacy. Leia breathed a sigh of relief and was about to make her excuses and flee under the cover of the distraction when she caught the handmaidens’ looks.

“She needs the break, doesn’t she?” Leia asked low enough Padmé wouldn’t hear. And was unsurprised when both women nodded.

A tingle in her feet and her back were the promise that they would be aching later. And possibly her head as well.

But it had been so long since she had gotten to do anything like this (shopping with Shmi was an exercise in the strictest, most efficient economy) with anyone who had been interested. And Padmé would love it and needed the break.

So Leia stayed until the call was finished, helped them rearrange the schedule for the day, and meekly accepted the three women and two droids that became her companions as they headed out into one of the nearer shopping districts, desperately hoping they would find something quickly.

* * *

They didn’t.

* * *

Coruscant had always been one of Leia’s least favorite places to find clothes, and even pre-Empire, several of the worst details still stood out to her. The most notable being every. Single. Person. Mentioning how short she was. Indirectly.

The showrooms and displays had gorgeous gowns and lovely dresses, simple and elaborate styles. There were more shops catering to various species, which was an improvement from her memory. Things were busier, there was more light and laughter and smiles than she remembered. Although there was still a fog of _something_ beyond the pollution, dimming things around her.

The actual clothes were okay, although that was mostly helped by Padmé being right, and having a better knowledge of where a young, newly rising political aide would find a proper wardrobe.

But the standing, and the undressing, and the redressing, and the twirling, and the comments (and every single one somehow coming back to her height being human non-standard) started to get grating more quickly than Leia had expected. And there was a lot of disagreement between the handmaidens, Padmé, and Threepio as to what would be considered appropriate for the occasion.

“You don’t want too low of a back,” was the general consensus, along with, “Nothing too warm. We’re expecting a fair number of people.”

But from there it was a disagreement between three quarter sleeves or shorter, should they match the color they’d been given exactly or pick a complimentary one, did she actually want a dress or something more like a suit with an over-robe?

There was a lot of laughter, but somewhere in her mind, Leia found it tedious.

How long had it been since she had done something this… normal?

“You’re tired,” Padmé said after the third store and about fifteen different dresses that had had real promise. “Should we stop here for today?”

Shaking her head, Leia admitted, “I need to have it ordered by tonight if I’m not going to worry about everything being ready in time.”

“The dinner is another week away.”

“I know,” Leia said. “But I still need to get some accessories, try everything on, make sure it’s properly fitted, get it adjusted when it’s inevitably too long, and figure out what I’m going to do with my hair.”

And Obi-Wan’s, if he’d let her. She’d realized she probably needed to completely make up a new style of her own as she’d been researching what she could do for him.

After a few moments of thought, Padmé asked, “What are you looking for?”

They’d started with a question of what she needed, but as they’d gone along Leia had realized that hadn’t been good enough. Padmé’s new question was more to the point.

“Something practical that I can move in. Something that will match Obi-Wan’s style, but not too closely. Something simple, not elaborate. I want…” She tried to picture it in her mind. The shape and the feel of the fabric. The color that she had been sent. “Minimalism, something that hints at the Jedi’s restraint in their aesthetic without copying the pieces. Some similar lines in the shoulder and around the waist, but in a dress, I think.”

“Well,” Padme said, smiling again, “Let’s go and find you that then.”

It took them two more stores to find something close enough to what Leia had described that it only needed to be moderately adjusted, but things went well and by the time they got home about an hour later, Leia had a dress and stole, new shoes, a bronze necklace and bracelets, and a lot more confidence about how she would be styling her hair.

“Thank you,” she told them all as she went to go and put everything away. “You were a big help.”

Even Threepio, who had managed to help her sort through the different shapes on the jewelry she had chosen and make sure to avoid any that would be directly or subtly insulting to the parties that had been invited for negotiation.

“It was fun,” Padmé seemed to be almost glowing with delight. “We should do that again sometime.”

The thought was exhausting, but if she was going to be here for a while, “I’m sure I’ll need more than one dress if I’m going to further my political career.”

It was meant to be wry and sarcastic, leaving a bit of uncertainty as to whether or not she was really planning on staying. But apparently Padmé was starting to catch on. Or was just determined to apply what she wanted to happen and let Leia catch up. “We’d better get you ready then. There’s going to be a lot of opportunities for you to prove yourself in the coming months.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

* * *

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” there was an amused voice from the doorway and Leia looked up, blinking in surprise when she saw Senator Darsana looming in the entryway.

“I do work here,” she found herself retorting before she could think better of it. “This is, in fact, my office.” Which was when her brain reengaged and she managed, “Would you like to take a seat?”

She moved things around, reached to adjust the lights, noticed him twitch, and let her hand drop. “Most of the time, when the light sensors indicate this low, humans are not working in the office,” he commented as he sat down, bringing his hands together in front of his chest and propping his elbows on the arms of his chair. “So I was surprised when it opened as I walked by.”

Rather than answering his implied questions, Leia asked, “Is there something that I can do for you?”

“Well,” he said, smiling in a way that told her to be wary of what came next, “you could tell me what is going on with the other Loyalists.”

She hadn’t been expecting that exactly, and certainly hadn’t expected him to come out and just say it. Her political maneuvering skills were still better fitted for a court where everything was implied, not outright stated. But she answered easily enough, “As a member of that committee, I would think that you are better placed to know what people are up to than I am.”

“Some members, certainly. But our, ah, unique position of not openly advocating against the military creation measures has led to some… difficulties in getting people to respond to us. When we ask uncomfortable questions.”

Leia brought her own hands together on the table, her lips twitching in a half smile. “Like how are you supposed to maintain functional profit margins when the Trade Federation won’t lend you their battle droids to fight off pirates, and there are no Republic funded alternatives?”

“Something like that, yes.”

She considered the issue and asked, “What does the Trade Federation say about lending you their support?”

“That they cover the lanes of travel they are involved in, and depend on us to fulfill our contract in our own space.”

“And any planet that can’t do so will have to submit their report to the congress at the end of the year, and might lose their direct representation in the senate. And have to submit to sector sovereignty.”

He had a very unpleasant smile when he chose. “I am afraid you are delightfully blunt. Yes, that would be one factor in not wanting to make this a matter of general scrutiny before the senate.”

“Even if the Trade Federation were committing fraud?”

And suddenly she had his complete and undivided attention. “I imagine,” he said, watching her very closely, his mouth hanging open between words, “you would have very good reason to make that sort of accusation.”

“If I brought it before the full senate,” Leia said calmly, “yes, I would. As it stands, I’m not at that point.”

Senator Darsana leaned back now, still tasting the air as he observed her. “But you believe you would be able to find such facts.”

“I find it hard to believe that with an increasing number of systems scrambling for access to basic resources, a planet like Cato Nemoidia could completely avoid similar trouble if it were acting in the best interests of the Republic which has allowed it to grow… unmolested.”

“They provide their own security,” the senator pointed out. “And there are the new taxes.”

Leia pulled a datapad out of the mess scattered across her desk, made sure it had the right charts pulled up, and handed it over. “These are their growth margins for the last ten years. Since the tax imposition. And the invasion of Naboo.”

“Strong word,” the senator murmured, accepting the datapad and glancing over it. He stopped, brought it closer to his face, then looked at her. “You can’t be serious.”

“Those aren’t the officially reported numbers,” Leia told him, taking it back. “Just what I’ve been able to put together from other extrapolated data.”

“The planet isn’t large enough to hold that many goods,” Senator Darsana said, his teeth clicking together, the fingers of one hand gripping the arm of his chair so tightly she could see the digits paling even in the relative dark. “They couldn’t possibly be holding that much in reserve.”

“Personally, no,” Leia agreed. “Which begs the question, if they don’t have it, where is it?”

A bitter smile. “Pirates?”

“Only if they’re supplying all of Hutt space,” Leia said. “In which case, we might need an army. To deal with that particular challenge of sovereignty. But that,” she added, “would be up to the senate. Once they had reviewed the issue.”

“And once the supplies are found.”

“Precisely.”

He took his time thinking about what had been said, just sitting there. It was tempting to work while she was waiting, but Leia gave him her full attention. She’d told him his time was valuable, and it could be small things that would prove it.

She admired him, that he had come to her directly. And that he hadn’t been subtle about it. He’d said he’d test her. To the very edge of her limits.

He chuckled. “It occurs to me,” his teeth were flashing again, “that you in no way actually answered my question.”

“I’m not privy to many secrets,” she confessed (at least, not from this time), “but even if I were, I would be a sad example if I were to discuss them, even with you.”

He nodded. “It would be very hard,” he agreed, “for you to maintain any trusts.” He stood. “I’m looking forward to the results of your work. I will have relevant documents brought to you regarding our system, once we are able to assemble them.”

Standing with him, Leia made sure not to blink in surprise. “That would be a great help.”

“I am certain,” he said, making a farewell gesture, “that you will make the effort worth it.”

“I live to serve,” she mostly kept the smile to herself. His wheezing chuckle told her she’d need to make more effort in the future.


	21. Even the Best Laid Plans

When her chrono pinged Leia stretched as far as she could in the chair and rubbed her eyes, letting the words she’d been reading sink into her mind. Once she was sure she would remember them she tried to turn her mind to tonight’s dinner and found the effort sluggish and ineffective.

She needed to meditate or something before she left. Not enough time to go shooting, but she could take ten minutes to clear her mind.

It felt important.

She left the front room, waving at Cordé who was reviewing travel arrangements with Captain Typho, and made herself comfortable on her bed. Once comfortable, she peeled her mind away from the information she had been processing, sinking away from the numbers and names and systems and into that cool, dark feeling that was her self.

It had been speckled with lights once, glowing like dozens of stars littered in her senses. She felt now, sensed, that those stars and lights were still there, she just couldn’t see them. Could feel them beyond the thick, dense haze that was her grief and sorrows, her anger and despair. But that haze between her and them was so cold.

She should probably deal with that.

She wouldn’t tonight.

Once she’d centered and grounded, Leia reached out, beyond her sense of self to the pearlescent glow that was the world around her. That was power and being and yesterdays and tomorrows and sometimes even the clearest perception she ever had of the now.

Sometimes it brought noises, various sounds. Feelings or warmths or blazing heats or a cold of its own, sometimes ambivalent and others very sinister.

Tonight it was quiet. Quiet and peaceful calm. Like the center of the storm, or the stillness right before a disaster. It reminded her of being trapped in that cell, waiting for the return of Vader. Then composing herself, putting herself back together to face Tarkin.

Just before her world had ended.

It was clarity. And a warning.

* * *

“Master, do you think I should-“

Anakin’s words died as he walked into the room and caught sight of Obi-Wan, standing in front of a mirror and adjusting his robe. A new robe, Anakin noted. A lighter brown to go with his also new, dark blue undershirt. His boots weren’t new, but they were clean and polished.

None of which was as startling as his haircut.

“Do I think you should what?” Obi-Wan asked, not even looking over as he fiddled with his clothes some more, and then smoothed at his beard.

Anakin couldn’t remember what he’d been about to ask. “You cut your hair.”

Something about how he said it must have finally clued in his master, who turned, a very odd sort of smile on his face. “It was this or let Leia style it. I just couldn’t bring myself to allow that.”

It took a moment before Anakin realized that his mouth was hanging open. “I- I thought-“

It’d been a stupid thought, really. His master hadn’t said anything about it, Anakin had just assumed. Served him right for- for thinking Obi-Wan cared.

“You thought what?”

It was a genuinely curious tone, and so open that Anakin found himself saying, without thinking, “You were waiting for my knighting.”

His voice dropped off as he finished. He couldn’t meet Obi-Wan’s eyes and wished he was holding something to distract his hands. But he’d get scolded if he just summoned something to play with.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan sounded baffled. “No, I- I just was enjoying not having to get regular haircuts. I mean,” he stroked his beard, “I may have cut it, once you were knighted. I really don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”

Which also squelched the idea that he’d been growing it in memory of Master Qui-Gon. But Anakin wasn’t going to make the mistake of voicing that thought. “Well, it looks very nice.”

“Thank you,” and he sounded actually reassured, which made Anakin nervous. Obi-Wan was never _this_ weird about his appearance. And he seemed to be worried about what this Leia thought.

Very strange.

“So, this is for the party?” It was a stupid question, especially since Obi-Wan had gone over Anakin’s plans for the evening five time already. But he couldn’t make his brain get back to what he’d meant to talk to Obi-Wan about.

Smoothing his clothes, Obi-Wan said, “Yes. This is for tonight’s banquet. Which is more of a negotiation dinner than a party, Anakin.”

“It seems too fancy and frivolous,” Anakin shrugged. “Especially if you’re trying to reconcile with Outer Rim worlds.”

“I am hardly dressed in anything that would be considered _fancy_ ,” Obi-Wan objected, which reminded Anakin just how little his master knew about _want_ and what it meant and what it looked like.

Sometimes now, even Anakin forgot, he’d been in the Temple so long. And then they’d go on a mission, and he’d _remember_. Everything.

“It’s more than most of them probably have,” was what he wanted to say. But instead, he just shrugged. “Well, I’m sure you’ll do the Order proud.”

“I hope so. They haven’t really been clear on what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Maybe they don’t know,” he hadn’t meant to say that, but it happened. And he couldn’t take it back.

His master gave him the look. “I’m sure they have a plan.”

Nodding was the right response, but Anakin didn’t really believe it. Every day he was less and less sure the Jedi had any idea what they were doing.

* * *

There was a knock, closely followed by, “Leia?”

“Yes,” she called as she twisted her hair, wrapping it carefully so it would stay with only the slightest help from a pin. It would have to survival like this for several hours.

The door slid open and Padmé said, “We just wanted to make sure you had everything you need before we left. Oh, that’s lovely.”

The senator’s styles frequently involved elaborate hair pieces and tonight was no exception. There was something between a net and a cage holding a crest around the back of her head, glittering gold that complimented the rich purples of her dress. In comparison, Leia felt that her own hair seemed simple, no matter the relative complexity of the wide, flat bun braided and twisted around the crown of her head.

It was nice to have gotten the compliment. “Thank you. You look wonderful yourself.”

Padmé was too experienced to titter or blush, but Leia felt the rush of embarrassment from her friend and was a little surprised by it. “Thank you. Hopefully it’s not too much.”

There was pretty obvious wealth in the design that had been chosen, but it was also more open and less layered than many of Padmé’s outfits. And the luxury helped hide her youth, which was probably a good thing in these circumstances. The only issue, “Is purple the color of the evening for all the loyalists?”

“No. Is it a problem?”

Not inherently, but, “Do you know what the Chancellor is wearing? He favors a lot of purples and similar dark colors. I was wondering if you would match, and if it was deliberate.”

Frowning, the senator stepped further in to borrow Leia’s mirror for a moment. Leia took the chance to fold and wrap her sash, grateful that the sand tone stood out so clearly against the blue. It made it much easier to tie, and then twist and reposition until it lay mostly flat against her stomach and sides. She slid a few combs into it to test how visible they were and was pleased with the results.

“It could be similar,” Padmé admitted, sounding dubious. “I’ll have to ask Bail if I resemble the Chancellor’s party too much.”

“I’m sorry. I should have said something before.”

Shaking her head, Padmé moved to the door. “No, we left you out of the planning on purpose. At least that worked. You and I don’t look anything alike.”

Well, not more than passingly, Leia thought. But yes, their styles were very different. Padmé’s satins shone and shimmered as she moved, holding their shape with their stiffness. Their colors did not compliment, and they’d gone for very different styles in their makeup. Leia’s was minimalist, while Padmé’s harkened back to her time as queen. Another decision to disguise her age and emphasize her experience.

“You’d better be going,” Leia said, checking the time. “I know you were planning on being early.”

“Take care. We’ll see you there.”

When the door closed Leia was already back in front of her mirror, placing a few more pins and putting on her jewelry. She’d add her stole a few minutes before Obi-Wan was supposed to arrive. That and the sash should balance out the dark blues, she thought, and add the implication of the flowing impression of Jedi robes without imitating them.

As far as being dressed for battle, she was feeling mostly prepared.

* * *

“You look lovely.”

He didn’t need to sound so surprised. But then, Obi-Wan had gotten the first word in because he’d caught Leia staring at him. “Thank you. You’re looking very nice yourself.”

His smile told her he knew he’d won the surprise round, but Leia counted it a victory on her part. He looked much better with short hair. And he was standing straighter too, which she wouldn’t have guessed would be a side effect.

Or maybe it was just the image he was projecting for tonight.

Either way, it looked better.

“Thank you for coming to pick me up,” she said as she grabbed her things. “It’s a bit out of your way.”

“I’m fairly certain you’re the one doing me a favor in all this,” Obi-Wan pointed out, actually offering her his arm as they made their way to the lift. “It wasn’t any trouble at all.”

“Then I’m glad to be of service.”

Her dress didn’t move with the shushing silkiness she was used to, but it was comfortable and fit in a way that allowed her more freedom of movement than she had used to have at these events. Which was probably good. She’d have to work her way back into more restrictive dresses if she wanted to attend any really fancy parties.

“Any new updates you can provide?” Obi-Wan asked as they climbed into the speeder. Leia gave him the most relevant notes she had compiled over the last week. He seemed equal parts worried and impressed. “We’re not walking into a very advantageous situation, are we?”

“It’s partly problematic because what motivates the Core worlds is a desire to avoid more bloodshed. But for those that are leaving the Republic-“

“They’re already losing so many lives, having soldiers might actually be a benefit to them.” He sighed, moving through traffic with more caution that she would have expected. “The Jedi are not an army. And we aren’t equipped to act like one.”

Leia nodded. “That’s probably for the best. You’re isolated enough as is. If you were full time combatants…”

She thought of the humanity that had been lost when people looked at her brother, seeing only the Death Star destroyer, the Emperor killer (and he hadn’t even done that one, not that anyone ever listened) and Leia mourned the opportunities that had been missed to place him where he would have excelled.

Luke would do what was necessary. But he was also forgiving, had discovered that it was healing. And that, more than anything else, had been what their new Republic had needed.

They’d sent him to be an enforcer instead. A subtle threat of what the systems would be standing against if they didn’t listen to the Alliance.

Once he’d figured it out he’d hated it, and resented that he hadn’t been told. Leia didn’t even try and claim it had all been for the best. She knew better than that.

"I didn't intend for that to be such a depressing comment," Obi-Wan remarked, and Leia gave herself a mental shake.

"No, that was me. I distracted myself.”

He didn't say anything, and Leia allowed what she assumed was a comfortable silence. His, "Do you get distracted often?" made her wonder what he was thinking.

"It depends on the situation," she admitted. "But when I'm working, I generally stay very focused."

"Not making any promises then?" he asked, and there was humor in his tone, but an undercurrent of worry that she couldn't miss.

She shifted in her seat, catching her first glimpse of the formal hall they were using, all lit up and glittering, even against the millions of lights around them. "I have done this before," she managed. "I'm just loath to make any absolute promises on anything. Life has taught me that nothing is certain."

"There is always the Force," Obi-Wan seemed to be quoting, or at least repeating a very familiar refrain. "That much _is_ certain."

Maybe, but it wasn't much of a comfort. The Force hadn't saved Alderaan, or Han, or Luke. It hadn't even been the one to send her back. That had been-

"You really are very distracted," Obi-Wan said, and she was a little surprised by the gentleness in his tone. "I can't promise that no one will make any comments, but I can promise I will stay with you all night and help mitigate any… pretensions as best I can."

It was a kind promise, if a weak one, hard to uphold. Leia steeled herself, putting as much confidence into her voice and expression as she could. “I really am ready for this, that much I can promise.”

More than the rest of them perhaps. She didn’t know for certain if Palpatine had organized this event in her past, if Obi-Wan Kenobi had been at it, either with someone or alone. She didn’t know the exact details or how different people would react.

But she knew it wasn’t really a stage for reconciliation, it was for sabotage. And knowing that meant she knew what tools she would need to deal with it.

Obi-Wan at least seemed reassured. “I am confident in your competence. Come on. Let’s see what’s going on inside.”

They left the speeder in capable hands and made their way up a long series of steps to the hall. Leia wasn’t technically breathless when they reached the top, but she had her suspicions that Kenobi had been using the Force. He was too collected when they reached the top step.

Not ideal, part of her thought, or welcoming to have so many stairs.

Inside glittered almost as much as out. The entryway was filled with delegates and guests, milling about, handing over cloaks and coats, making initial greetings, and gauging the atmosphere.

The noise immediately around them stopped when they walked in, and eyes turned towards them for a moment. Leia swallowed, breathed in a sense of invisibility and nothingness, but not too much, and met those stares with as much composure as she could manage.

Obi-Wan’s arm wasn’t linked with hers, but she felt his hand hovering near the small of her back, acting as a shield and a guide as they made their way into the part of the hall that had been set up for dinner.

The Chancellor was easy to spot at the front of the room near the head of the table, and Kenobi was clearly planning on heading that way first to make his greetings, but Leia stopped him, indicating with her eyes more than her head that they should approach Bail Organa first, and some of the guests that he was chatting with.

None of them were from the Senate.

Catching her intentions, Obi-Wan squeezed her wrist briefly, with a touch of a nod, and started moving them in that direction.

“Master Kenobi,” Senator Organa said when he spotted them. “It’s a pleasure to see you this evening. May I introduce you to our friends?”

The crowd had varied reactions, some delight and relief, others suspicion, and the rest somewhere in between. Obi-Wan bowed to the company and Leia dropped a curtsy and a nod, smiling as sweetly as she knew how.

“It would be our pleasure, Senator Organa. Please.”

These were representatives from systems around Glee Anselm, Leia realized, and others from Felucia and its nearby systems. Around the room she could hear other names being thrown about, Christophsis, some systems she knew were near Naboo, and some places she had never heard of even.

When he had finished introducing the visiting delegates, Senator Organa said, “This is Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his associate, Leia Skywalker.”

His face didn’t slip, but Leia felt something _plummet_ around Obi-Wan in the Force when he heard that name.

Shit. She’d forgotten that she hadn’t told him.

“Associate?” the representative from Felucia asked, eyeing Leia skeptically. He was one of the only people in the room shorter than she was.

“Advisor and associate,” Obi-Wan managed. To someone less familiar he sounded calm, but Senator Organa seemed to catch whatever it was in Obi-Wan’s tone that was also telling Leia the man had been badly shaken. “She’s one of the consultants tracking trade information around the Republic and the Jedi Council have found her advice invaluable.”

“Have they?” the Felucian blinked a few times. “And what have you learned?”

“Many things that make us concerned,” Obi-Wan said honestly. “I’d appreciate hearing your perspective on how things look on the ground. Data can show patterns, but it can’t inform us in the same way as experience. And the AgriCorps aren’t in all of the systems that have a vested interest in being here tonight.”

Listening, Leia thought, trying not to blink too much in the onslaught of lights (another minor offense?) and followed that thought. These people thought no one was listening. If Kenobi was going to do something to help that worked, the Jedi would have to _do_ something at the end of all of this.

She would have to think about that. Leia didn’t have any direct connections to the Jedi Council. Yet.

They only spoke in vague terms for a few moments before mixing with other crowds as they made their way up toward the Chancellor. People began sitting before they had quite made it, and Leia only shrugged when Obi-Wan indicated with his eyes to see if they should push forward. She had no interest in facing Sheev Palpatine tonight. But if the Jedi insisted…

He didn’t. Winding through the crowd, they made their way to their seats and Leia had time to curse the placements at the table.

The guests who were being influenced by the Separatists were all seated on one side, across from the Loyalists and others the Chancellor had invited. It was clear too, which of them he had been working with personally, because they were the ones seated closest to him. It would be difficult, almost impossible, for informal conversation to happen across the parties during the meal. Which meant the evening would be long when they were mingling later.

Leia groaned internally, then braced herself. She’d faced worse.

Glancing at her dinner partner as he held a chair for her, Leia wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t be the most difficult part of this evening.


	22. Under Fire

“I don’t suppose you were ever going to tell me?”

Since he’d caught her at a moment when they were both turning, kept his voice too low to carry, and hadn’t let his polite smile slip, Leia forgave Obi-Wan for his frustration as she answered, “You didn’t ask.”

It was a mistake, she knew. A hostile reaction to what, deep down, was a perfectly honest question. She just didn’t want to have to dance around the answer right now, and it was getting more and more difficult to avoid that.

He didn’t actually respond since they were greeting the Neimoidian delegation. Hoping that the stiffness in his spine and tension all around him was more for facing the Trade Federation than her, Leia made her best effort to be professional.

She wished, distantly, that she could send him some sort of reassurance in the Force, some idea that things were going to be okay. It had always been a relief when she’d received one from her brother and had carried truth that was so easily distorted by words.

Since that wasn’t an option, Leia worked on being a polite and obscure guest.

“I didn’t mean to make that so much of an accusation,” he added sometime later as they were taking a breather near one of the walls, a clear peace offering. “It was just so unexpected-“

“I should have told you,” Leia agreed, using her cup to hide the movement of her lips. “It was unkind and unprofessional not to. I’m just not sure it’s something you want to talk about. Or would find relevant.”

He seemed to juggle that for a moment, but when he couldn’t come up with an immediate answer, they dove back into the crowd, taking time with the guests around Senator Organa, and then finally making their way into a conversation with the Naboo party.

Padmé’s head was held high, her eyes sparkling, but she seemed to be having a good time. She was in a spirited debate with one of the guests from Christophsis, asking where they expected to have a military force stationed if it was approved, and how his citizens would feel about it. Not the most diplomatic approach, but he seemed to be trying to flirt with her as he made his counterarguments, and Leia got them out as soon as she could.

They weren’t wanted as part of _that_ conversation.

She spotted Rush Clovis as they were walking away though, eyeing Padmé as she laughed at the most recent point and grabbed another drink for her opponent.

“I’m not sure how to feel about it,” Obi-Wan made his way back to their discussion again as they paused so he could help her adjust her stole after someone had nearly trampled her. “You say it isn’t relevant, and I’d like to agree, but I don’t know who you _are._ ”

The, “and that concerns me,” was written on his face for a moment, and Leia hoped it was covered by their movements.

“It’s simple enough to explain,” Leia said, touching her hair to make sure everything was still in place. “When we settled on Naboo, I left my old family name behind and Shmi Skywalker offered me hers. I suppose you could say I was adopted, or something like that.”

He seemed about to ask her what exactly that old family name had been, but caught himself and didn’t bring it up again until after they’d made another half circuit of the room, quelling no fewer than four arguments that looked like they might be moving beyond shouting towards violence (places Palpatine had been only a few moments before).

“Anakin doesn’t know about you?”

“He has no idea that I exist,” Leia said.

That actually earned a chuckle. “I did mention you to him. So that is slightly untrue.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Do you want me to?”

That question sat unanswered almost all the way to the end of the evening. They actually got separated at some point, Leia liaising with Senator Darsana and the other representatives from systems around Glee Anselm while Obi-Wan was dragged away to greet someone he’d met during his time as a padawan.

Apparently, his dignity was too delicate to have her around to witness that one.

When they met up again later, she opened with, “If you don’t want to tell him, I don’t have an opinion one way or another. If you think he needs to know, you should tell him, and introduce him to me.”

“I will think about it,” Obi-Wan said. “His situation is so different from the other initiates. I try not to make it harder by making him think about his old life.”

His home, Leia wanted to say. His family. She didn’t like it, but she tried to understand.

(The idea of Luke being ripped away from her, never knowing where she was, never speaking to her again, didn’t settle well in her heart.)

“I don’t want to make his life, or yours, more difficult.” Not directly, anyway. She wasn’t sure what the consequence would be from her actions, but she had an idea about how bad it could get.

Hypothetically.

Historically.

“Well, I appreciate that. And will take your words under advisement.”

They were making a final round of the room, moving more than speaking to make sure things were calm, when Senator Sadashassa caught up with them, smiling at Obi-Wan and winking at Leia. “I see you two are keeping things under control.”

Not sure if he was ignoring the wink because he didn’t know what to do with it, or because he felt it was safer to ignore, Leia was amused when he answered, “We are doing our level best.”

“Do you mind if I borrow your friend for a moment?” Shea asked him, offering an arm to Leia. “I have a someone I want her to meet.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan stepped to the side after a look to Leia, her approval a half smile. “Shall I come and find you, or will you find me?”

“You’ll be easier to spot,” Leia said, acknowledging that even in her shoes, which made a modest addition to her height, she wasn’t going to stand out in this crowd.

Obi-Wan moved with the usual Jedi circle of space around him.

“He’s an interesting man,” Shea commented as they made their way around. “How did you end up with him?”

“I made a visit to the Temple and bumped into him in their gardens. Then saw him again in the Executive Building. He’d heard about my project.”

“So this is just a professional engagement?”

It was hard to tell, with all the ambient noise, how much teasing there was in that statement. “I didn’t think Jedi had another type.”

“You’re not _that_ naive,” Shea was teasing now. “Though it is hard to manage with most of them.”

“Professional,” Leia stated, deciding she didn’t want to encourage this particular topic. “Strictly, entirely professional.”

“Noted.”

They approached a visitor from Ryloth who Shea introduced as Cham Syndulla. He greeted Leia rather stiffly as she was introduced as the Jedi’s dinner companion from Naboo. She didn’t take it personally. Syndulla was side eyeing everyone in the room.

“Cham, this is my friend I told you about. She’s been working on the report regarding the Trade Federations deals, and how they’re impacting certain system economies. Leia, could you give him your perspective on Ryloth’s situation?”

It was hard to keep back the sentiment of, “Your senator is sabotaging your people to get in with a Sith Lord Emperor,” but Leia managed and said, “I don’t mind sharing my observations. Could you help me correct any points where you notice errors? Data doesn’t tell me everything.”

His lekku twitched slightly, and his answering smile was almost a sneer, but Syndulla said, “Certainly, I will offer any corrections.”

“Good. Because the outlook I’m getting from the data is a non-viable situation for Ryloth in the long term, and I would like to know if I’m missing any mitigating factors, or need to list it as a most urgent priority.”

He didn’t like that, not the mention that his planet might be weak. He was a fighter, Leia saw. Even if he didn’t regularly see combat, he was willing to fight how things were if he didn’t like them.

She hoped she could win him over. It would be the thrill of a lifetime if Syndulla or one of his associates could overthrow Orn Free Ta.

“What do you mean, non-viable situation?” he asked, and his frown deepened and deepened as she told him. After the second time Shea interrupted to compare Ryloth’s situation to Herdessa, Leia made a conscious effort to add those comparisons herself, as well as other similar systems. She wasn’t sure if it was to make him feel less exposed, or just not alone in his situation, but ultimately it didn’t matter. Leia trusted Shea’s judgement.

Syndulla was still frowning when she finished. “That is,” he hesitated, “not an inaccurate picture of our situation. Ryloth is a healthy mixture of some large cities and many more rural areas. They do not suffer from want naturally-“

He had to pause, and Leia watched various veins twitching as he looked around the room, spotted Orn Free Ta next to the Chancellor, and the several women that were in attendance around them.

Well, it was marginally harder to run out of resources if you kept shipping large chunks of your population off planet as slaves.

“It is unequal,” he finally stated. “Entry into the Republic has made many desire a Republic, a _Core_ Republic style of living. Some,” his eyes shot towards Senator Free Ta again, “more than others. We are import heavy, and when basic necessities become too expensive to ship in from off planet, then we begin to drain our people dry. And our people have only so much to give. Ryloth is a tumultuous planet.”

Thinking of the bare wasteland of Tatooine, Leia could understand the problem only too well. “Ryloth is against the creation of a Republic Army?”

There was a serious shifting of unease. “There are lanes of traffic around and through our planet that do not meet Republic standards,” he admitted. What a novel way of saying black market slave and spice lines. “There could be further imbalance if the people of Ryloth had to station troops to deal with those problems.”

“Surely pirates and smugglers make fair trade for Ryloth more difficult as well?” Leia checked, wondering exactly where Syndulla stood in all of this. She worried it was with the planet generally, not with the Republic, or even all of Ryloth’s people.

“They do,” he agreed. “It is a difficult problem to sort out. And not everyone is interested in trying.”

His eyes didn’t go to the Twi’lek senator again, but Leia could tell it took an effort. She let Shea excuse them and take her back to Obi-Wan, pondering the mess that was the Outer Rim.

All in all, when the evening had finished, Leia could only feel that she had made one new ally. And as he had been one she’d nearly lost, she counted that as a mixed success.

“Did you have a good time?” Eirtaé asked as she slipped over, leaving Padmé saying goodnight to the Chancellor and Senator Organa. “You look like you’ve had a night of it.”

“We’ll have to see how productive it was,” Leia murmured, keeping her eyes on the groups slowly making their way toward the doors. No one seemed to be looking forward to those steps. “Did you have a good evening?”

“It was nice to be invited,” Eirtaé answered, gesturing to Leia and Obi-Wan to follow her back towards Padmé. “Normally we wouldn’t be part of this kind of event. And I do think it will end up being very productive. If the senator doesn’t get herself kidnapped for her impertinence.”

“She’s taken a very strong stand on the anti-military creation side of things,” Obi-Wan pointed out, his hands clasped behind his back. “She could make more than a few personal enemies that way.”

Eirtaé nodded. “We know. She always does, when she gets like this. But I don’t think telling her that will encourage her to stop. She believes courage and resolution are the tools for moments like that, not the byproducts of surviving them.”

“Maybe a little of both,” Leia suggested, making a half bow and a formal wave to Senator Darsana as he and his aide left. “Although, I’m not sure it’s good to tell her that either.”

“Tell me what?” Padmé demanded with a smile as she approached them, accepting a nod from Obi-Wan with one of her own. “You didn’t do something drastic, did you?”

“She was perfectly well behaved,” Obi-Wan promised, falling into step next to them. “Thank you for lending her to me for the evening. She was very put together and very insightful.”

“And she didn’t get completely drunk and collapse over anyone,” Dormé added, her narrowed eyes flashing over to where Senator Orn Free Ta was having words with Mas Amedda.

“She did not do that,” Obi-Wan agreed cheerfully.

They debated a little whether Obi-Wan should take her back, but decided it just wasn’t practical. Most of the guests they were concerned about had already left, and they hadn’t made it a secret that Leia was technically from Naboo.

And it was late. Leia felt bad for keeping the Jedi up longer than needed.

“I don’t mind,” he was saying as they had made their way halfway down the steps. “Not that I think you’re wrong, but-“

It was a flash like pain all over her skin, like lightning, and Leia moved before she had completely thought about it, slamming into Padmé and knocking them both sideways as they tumbled and slid down a few stairs, the sound of something tearing almost drowned out by someone’s scream and the sound of a blaster bolt slamming into the stone.

Before she could get her bearings, or even process how badly she was hurt, Leia was being moved, lifted and almost dragged, and it was hard to tell if it was actually the speed or her roaring head that was making everything blur as it moved past her.

“-here!” she almost caught what had to be Obi-Wan shouting before he dove out from behind the statue, his lightsaber a cobalt blaze in the darkness, blurring with absurd speed as he covered the other guests who were ducking behind that statues lining the stairway.

Everything seemed to slow around her as Leia forced herself to watch him, to trace the shots to a building that seemed almost impossibly far away. She should go out there, be with him, he shouldn’t be alone-

“Leia!”

Gasping, Leia collapsed against the stone base hiding them, trembling as she pulled her eyes from Obi-Wan and found Dormé’s gaze. She was helped down slowly, two bodies pressing on either side of her, Padmé to her left and Dormé to her right.

“-called the security officers?” Padmé was asking, both arms pulling Leia against her, watching Dormé handle her comms while keeping half an eye on Obi-Wan. The shots seemed to have stopped, but his saber was still drawn, and he kept ordering people to stay down, to wait for an all clear.

“We’re working on it,” Eirtaé promised, and Leia felt some of the feeling coming back into her fingers, warmth creeping towards her toes. “They’ve got the Chancellor on lockdown inside.”

Anger seethed, and Leia had to swallow it over and over. This. This had his name all over it.

How _dare_ he?

It was only a few minutes before several more Jedi had arrived and began escorting the remaining parties to their vehicles as Coruscant security set up ground perimeters and coordinated the chase for the shooter. Leia didn’t say anything, just listened, trying to slow her breathing and not to lose track of time again.

“Senator Amidala,” Obi-Wan rejoined them, kneeling. There was a scorch mark on the shoulder of his new robe and Leia wanted to cry when she saw it, couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and brushing her fingers across it.

He covered her hand with his and smiled so, so kindly. “I guess this one will have to retire from the diplomatic core. Think they’ll let me go with it?”

Giggling, Leia shook her head. “No chance. No one died tonight. I think you’ll be stuck with it.”

He made a face at her words, but she felt his relief. He squeezed her fingers one more time, then moved her hand back to her knees. “I think we’re going to wait until some of the other buildings have been cleared before we try moving you, Senator Amidala. They didn’t seem to concerned with hitting other targets, but I’m pretty sure-“

“I’m the one they wanted,” she agreed. Glanced at Leia. “Do you think we’ll be here long? We could use some blankets.”

Without any hesitation, he shrugged out of his robe and tucked it around Padmé and Leia. “I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with this for now. But I’ll see what I can do. Hopefully even if we can’t move you away, we can at least get you back inside for the evening.”

“Master!”

Leia felt everything wrench. The warmth that had been returning fled, and she froze with it. Her breathing almost stopped, she was sure her heart tripped. It was hard to make out his features clearly in the backlight, but Obi-Wan was already moving towards him, almost groaning, “Anakin, you’re supposed to be-“

“You’re under attack!” he didn’t let Obi-Wan finish, was almost looming over his teacher in his frustration and anxiety.

And Leia felt it. Felt _everything_. He hadn’t been there, and now suddenly he was, slamming against her senses in every possible way and she was-

(Cold and grey and white and red and _black_ , that steady breathing that kept stealing her oxygen, that _pressure_ on her mind, needling for her secrets, something in her body, in her system, willing her, urging her to talk)

-not going to throw up, not here. Dormé was in a half crouch, keeping herself a barrier between this new stranger and her charges. Leia hid in that shadow, pulling in and in and in on herself, until even she wasn’t sure she hadn’t completely faded away.

“-know you’re concerned, but I have everything under control. You need to let go of your anxieties, Anakin.”

“Ani?”

All that pressure, that focus, snapped from seething across her senses, sharpened and slammed into Padmé and Leia couldn’t believe her friend was still standing. Hadn’t even noticed. “Padmé?”

It shouldn’t have been possible to find more dread, but in that moment, it was all Leia could feel at all. The _reverence_ in that tone was so poignant and _demanding_ she wanted to scream (not you, not you, not _you!_ ), but could only manage to watch as Padmé stood, moving towards Dormé, who was _not_ happy.

It just wasn’t _fair_.

* * *

“You need to stay under cover, my lady,” the woman was telling Padmé, and the worry all around her snapped Anakin out of his staring, making him reach out and try to sense any possible danger around them. He felt his master’s irritation building, but thankfully Obi-Wan had stopped trying to say that Anakin shouldn’t be here.

As if he could be anywhere else when Padmé _and_ Obi-Wan were in trouble.

“Who did this?” Anakin demanded, turning to his master, knowing he was seething in the Force and trying and trying and trying to swallow it. “Where are they?”

“The security force is tracking the shooter,” Obi-Wan said, trying to be firm and calm and Anakin _hated_ it. He wasn’t a child, they were in danger, he had to _do_ something- “We were trying to set up a clear path to move Senator Amidala and her handmaidens back into the building. They’ll be with the Chancellor in there, and have better security.”

Something wrenched in the Force and Anakin felt his eyes being pulled back to Padmé, who was nodding at Obi-Wan’s words. But, but that was wrong. What he’d felt, it was so strong. Would they be safe with the Chancellor?

“Are we sure we should move them?”

Obi-Wan’s anger was starting to leak out in more than just the Force. “It’s freezing out here, Anakin,” it wasn’t, but Padmé _was_ shivering, probably shock more than, “there’s nothing comfortable for them to rest on, and the entrance isn’t that far away. There’s no reason to leave them.”

Unless moving them would make one of them dead. It couldn’t be Padmé, Anakin wouldn’t allow that. And she’d be hurt if she lost one of her friends. They needed a better plan. “Can’t we move them somewhere else? A secure enough transport won’t buckle to a couple of sniper shots.”

“Like what?” Obi-Wan demanded as Anakin already found himself smiling. “Padawan, _no_.”

“It’ll be a good opportunity to give it another test run,” he tried. “And the shields are more than enough-“

“It’s a space vessel, not a ground transport-“

“It’ll _work_ -“

“And we don’t have the licenses to fly it in the city,” Obi-Wan threw that down with a sternness that said he wasn’t budging on the subject, no matter how unreasonable he was being. “Anakin, I know you want to help, but right now there are more practical solutions we can see to. Please try to be in the here and now.”

Normally he would have argued, but Anakin glanced up and saw Padmé, saw that she was bruised, that she was worried, and he swallowed his first words to force out, “Yes, Master.”

It didn’t make Obi-Wan completely relax, but some of the tension left. Anakin took it for as good as it was going to get for where things currently stood. “Thank you. Now, will you go help Master Windu and see if we’re safe to move them?”

Rolling his eyes to hide the unease those words brought, Anakin still nodded, managed a bow when he got a raised brow, and took off up the steps to that tightly wound presence in the Force that was Master Windu.

This was just not his night. And if he didn’t hurry, he might not get to really see Padmé.

* * *

“He got taller.”

When she spoke, Padmé voice only trembled once. Obi-Wan came back over to help her sit down again and get tucked back under the robe Leia was now hoarding. “He did shoot up quite a bit. It’s always a little disappointing when I meet another person who insists on being taller than me all the time.”

This time his joke didn’t bring anything more than a mild smile from anyone, but Eirtaé said, “He must have been very worried about you. He came here very fast.”

“He was supposed to stay in the Temple,” Obi-Wan objected, but there wasn’t a lot of strength to it. “I suppose he had to get permission to come, since this zone is blocked off, but the whole point was that he _wasn’t_ supposed to come.”

“He can’t be that much of a disaster,” Eirtaé objected.

Before Obi-Wan could make any snide or sincere remark, Leia managed, “He loves you. He couldn’t leave you behind.”

The degree of shock that poured off of Obi-Wan at those words, even for the briefest moment, was almost startling enough to make Leia retreat again, but she held her ground. Whatever was wrong with her was fading, and she couldn’t keep whimpering like this. “Jedi are forbidden to have attachments,” Obi-Wan crossed his arms as he crouched, like he was trying to not reach for his beard.

“So they can’t _care_?” Leia demanded, flabbergasted. “Not even about their teachers being in danger? Or unprotected? Abandoned?”

Apparently this was the night for Leia to keep toppling Obi-Wan Kenobi. He almost smoothly managed, “No. No we don’t expect our students not to care. Or to… leave us. Behind.”

A flash of yellow and red eyes, a black and red face, a man falling to the ground, and Leia had a sudden feeling of clarity as to how she had done this.

Deep breath, cool night air in, warm air out. Ignore the slightly acid taste now curling on her tongue. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse. I just… it’s hard not to care when the people closest to you are in danger. And you could have been hurt.”

“I wasn’t,” he pointed out, and Leia allowed herself to try a look she knew her mother had used on her countless times. With a hint of Shmi thrown in. It worked. “Well, it was nothing serious in any case. More wounded pride than anything. I’m honestly shocked you were able to respond so quickly. How did you see it?”

He seemed genuinely surprised, and Leia had no idea how to answer. Because she hadn’t seen anything, she’d just felt it. The moment when a pending storm had crashed. And she wasn’t going to lose anything else.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to answer. A Jedi, probably the aforementioned Master Windu, came back with a sulking Anakin in tow and said they’d been approved a transport to take Senator Amidala to the security force offices for statements.

It would be a long night, but at least Leia could keep that secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. Leia has met Anakin Skywalker.


	23. Reunion

Shmi Skywalker was a force to be reckoned with.

“What do you mean, she got shot at?” The Tatooine woman was standing with her arms crossed, glaring at Captain Typho with a seriousness that had the man flustered if not outright trembling. Leia, curled up next to the senator on the couch, sipped at her tea and enjoyed the show, only mildly interested in the conflict.

“She wasn’t seriously hurt,” that hadn’t been Captain Typho’s line last night when they’d finally made it back from giving their statements. He’d been much more upset then, demanding to know why he hadn’t been allowed to come and what the senate was planning to do as far as increasing security. “The Jedi was there and he took care of things.”

_Sure he did_ , Leia thought, taking another sip and enjoying the shifts that she knew were Padmé suppressing laughter. Obi-Wan had taken care of everything. Once he had realized there was danger.

(And Leia was _not_ thinking about that, and what it meant, and how in that moment Padmé’s life had rested on her and the Force.)

“Do you,” Shmi demanded, “have any idea how utterly inconceivable it is that the senator was fired on in such a way, and under such circumstances, and no one had any idea that it could happen?”

Which was an interesting point in two ways. One, there really should have been some sort of warning in a posted bounty or information gathered by spies. A threatening note or contact would probably have been a bit much, but killing Padmé without any warning meant it wasn’t obvious what kind of statement was being made. And two, Shmi was enough aware of the social and political maneuvering to see that there was something wrong about it.

Leia wasn’t sure which concerned her more.

Dormé came forward, putting a hand on Shmi’s arm. “We’re working on finding out what caused the oversight. Would you like to come and sit down? Join us for breakfast?”

Her bag was still sitting by the door, and it looked like Shmi hadn’t slept yet. Leia knew her grandmother had gotten on a ship the moment word had reached Naboo that the senator’s party was under fire, and she’d been in the air by the time security had set up a perimeter at the dinner hall. They’d gotten back to a call from Ruwee promising that home was on the way and as soon as he had things under control with the RRM, he and Jobal would be coming too.

Padmé was still working on dissuading her parents without admitting that having them nearby could be a further security risk.

Once everyone was seated around the table, Threepio arrived with food, exclaiming happily when he saw Shmi and begging her to tell everyone to be more careful. “I really don’t think they’re nearly enough concerned about this,” he whined. At Artoo’s beeps, he snapped, “Yes I know you think you’re clever, but you are not enough to protect them if someone has a blaster!”

“Did you find out if they have a name for the shooter?” Leia asked the astromech, earning a look from Captain Typho that she ignored. “It would be a big help in figuring out who might have hired them.”

The series of beeps was a clear negative, but Threepio translated, “He hasn’t been able to get access to the security reports yet, but he’s still trying. He does say that there aren’t any clear bounties posted that he can find.”

Well, so much for that being easy.

“We are investigating-“ Captain Typho began, but Dormé cut him off.

“I think we should table this discussion until after breakfast, Captain. Would you please make sure things are still quiet downstairs?”

Apartment management was not thrilled that they had an active political target determined to stay in the building. Building security was only being nominally cooperative. Still, better than nothing.

They’d made their way through most of the meal and were catching up on more mundane topics when the door slid open and there was a cheerful, “Well this looks cozy.”

Leia smiled at Obi-Wan, carefully not focusing on the boy standing next to him, almost vibrating as he tried to contain his emotions. Her own feelings were swinging. In one second, Shmi was going to turn around and-

Something lurched in the Force again, twisting as Shmi stood, Anakin’s reaction registering first, Obi-Wan a step behind as he noticed his padawan’s feelings twist.

“Mom?”

There was the barest pause, the shortest glance towards Obi-Wan, before Shmi answered, “Anakin.”

In a blink he was across the room, yanking her across the couch to pull her into a hug, squeezing her so tight Leia wasn’t sure he wouldn’t break her.

(There was a feeling in the room, so old and familiar and so not what she was looking for that it ached and stretched and she couldn’t breathe and, _“Probably the only one who can help you actually fix everything.”_ )

Obi-Wan’s faint protest of, “Anakin…” trailed off as he looked around, seeing everyone else’s faces. He looked back to his padawan as a choked sob came out, as Shmi murmured into her son’s cheek, placing kisses there and wrapping her arms around him, stroking his hair as a few tears escaped.

“Ani, oh Ani, you’re so big now.”

“Mom,” he managed, but seemed to be stuck there.

She tried to absorb the happiness, to bask in it, and in the relief. But all Leia could feel, beyond it all was a sense of everything being so fundamentally _unfair_. She wanted her _brother_ and all she was getting, all she had gotten-

_“And don’t look back.”_

If she cried a little, she could blame it on being happy for Shmi. It would be a lie, but it was one she could hold as a shield, protecting what was left of her heart, trying not to let it break.

She was almost under control again when Anakin finally looked up, and suddenly all she could see were Luke’s eyes.


	24. Promises, Promises

Obi-Wan Kenobi looked incredibly uncomfortable, and Leia could only sympathize with him. Anakin wasn’t curled around his mother anymore, but he was seated right next to her, his whole attention focused on her when it wasn’t pulled away for brief moments by Padmé. He was practically glowing in the Force, swimming in happiness, and if that wasn’t overwhelming all by itself (and sitting on the same couch, Obi-Wan had to find it at least a little overwhelming), there was also the practical implications of the meeting.

When he looked over at her, hopelessness in his eyes, Leia could only shrug at the Jedi Knight, offering as much apology in that movement as she could.

In her defense, their conversation last night had been a pretty timely warning, all things considered.

“And that was how we made it to Naboo,” Shmi told her son. Leia noticed her grandmother had skipped over a lot of details regarding Leia’s arrival at the Lars’s farm. Which was how she preferred it. “Padmé took us to meet her family, and we settled in at Theed. I’ve been doing work with the Refugee Relief Movement. They’ve been making some procedural changes, and have found some of my experience to be a help.”

So much of an understatement it was almost completely a lie, but Anakin didn’t seem to notice. He was just smiling, squeezing his mother’s hand, shaking his head. “I’m so glad you got out of there. I-I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Ani,” Shmi’s hand came up to his cheek, and she waited until he was meeting her eyes again. “You are not responsible for saving everyone. You are not even responsible for saving me. I am so glad to see you again, and I would have been just as glad if I had seen you on Tatooine or on any other planet. You are my gift, and my love. And I would _never_ blame you for anything that happened to me. I never have.”

He had to pause before he could say, “I know. But I _promised_.”

There was a weight to the word that tugged at Leia’s heart, made her think about how some promises took more than one lifetime to fulfill. It was Shmi who answered, “You said we would see each other again. And we have. And that, Ani, was the only thing I ever truly wanted.”

It was so hard to parse how much of that was the truth, Leia realized. There were probably a lot of things that Shmi thought about, saw as ideal, dreamed might happen, saw as a fulfillment of hope. But she seemed to be careful about allowing herself to experience _wanting_. She had been deprived of so much, to see the world constantly from a perspective of things she didn’t have would have been a crushing weight. One she chose not to carry, not allowing herself to collapse under the misery.

Leia wished she could think like that. It would make it easier to handle her own grief. She knew exactly what she wanted, and (even more than Shmi Skywalker) she knew it was something she could never have.

After a few moments of letting that comment settle, Padmé managed, “Was there a reason you came here, Master Kenobi?”

Sitting up and pulling himself together, the Jedi said, “Yes. We had hoped we could go over your statements from yesterday, since they won’t be released to the Temple for another couple of days. We want to make sure we aren’t missing anything as we help with the investigation. And,” he added, glancing over to Leia, “we wanted to make sure that you were alright.”

It was hard to feel his concern under the flood of emotions pouring off of Anakin, but Leia did notice it. “I think we’re going as well as can be expected.”

He nodded, but didn’t seemed reassured by the comment. Which actually gave Leia hope. At least he understood how serious this really was.

She looked to Padmé who said, “We’re ready to offer anything that will help. Who would you like to go first?”

“Leia, if you don’t mind,” Obi-Wan started, but they were interrupted by Captain Typho.

“The Chancellor is trying to reach you, mi’lady. Something about his condolences, and whether they should expect you at the senate today.”

“Of course I’m going,” Padmé stood as she spoke. “Why would they think I wouldn’t be coming?”

“I really couldn’t say,” the captain answered, gesturing out of the room. “If you’d like to ask the Chancellor…”

“I’m so sorry,” she said to the Jedi. “I don’t know how long this will take. If you don’t mind waiting…”

Obi-Wan at least minded. He seemed aware that a long fight could be coming. “We can always wait for the official reports if you’re busy,” he said. “We wouldn’t want to interfere with Senate business.”

“We can contact the security force and request copies of our statements,” Leia suggested, preferring that to having her experiences poked at by someone who might actually notice when she was avoiding things. “And forward them on to the Temple, if that would be helpful.”

“It would,” Obi-Wan was clearly relieved as he also stood. Anakin didn’t immediately follow, until his mother started standing as well. “We’re sorry to have caught you at such a bad time.”

That one seemed to stump Padmé as she glanced at Anakin and Shmi, and it was Cordé that answered, “We appreciate all your help last night, and you coming by today. We’re sure the Jedi are also very busy right now, searching for the shooter. We’ll cooperate in any way that we can.”

It was moments like those when Leia realize why Cordé was the first choice as body double for Padmé.

Obi-Wan bowed, and Anakin reluctantly followed suit. “If you can forward the reports, that will be a great help. I will keep you informed if the Council has any other requests, or if we discover anything else we can do to help. Anakin?”

“Thank you,” the padawan said to the group at large. To Padmé, “I’m glad that you’re okay, Senator.” And then, to his mother, “Mom, I-“

She wrapped him in another hug, a short one this time, holding his arms as she stepped back. “You have responsibilities at the Temple,” she said calmly, no shame or regret in her voice. “And I’m needed back on Naboo, when this is finished.”

We might not see each other again, Leia heard her saying. Not for a long time.

Anakin didn’t look happy about it, but he did nod, holding his mother’s shoulders and bending to touch his forehead to hers. “I know. I- I’m so glad to see you.”

He was choking a bit, but Shmi didn’t say anything, just let him stay there until his breaths were even again and Leia could feel the atmosphere of the room pulling back in around him, still thick with his emotions, but more contained. When he finally stood, Obi-Wan was looking relieved.

“I love you, Ani,” Shmi said, kissing his cheek. “I think- I _know_ we are going to see each other again. That is _my_ promise.”

And one she felt she could keep. Anakin noticed that, smiled, and stepped back, looking slightly guiltily at his teacher. “Master, I-“

“These last two days have been full of surprises,” Obi-Wan said, quickly and to the room at large. “I’m sure we’ll all have plenty of things to discuss in the days to come.”

He couldn’t quite meet Shmi’s eyes as he said it.

Leia was confident if there were things to discuss, he was hoping that Shmi wouldn’t be part of them. She couldn’t blame him. Anakin turned around three times to glance back at his mother as he left.

* * *

It was two hours later when Padmé finally came out of the room, cheeks flushed and eyes snapping. “He tried to ban me from the senate building,” she was almost growling. “To say it wasn’t safe for me to be there. If the senate isn’t safe, then where am I supposed to be?”

Leia came up with a pretty short list of answers, but didn’t like or mention any of them.

Dormé went to work soothing the senator while Captain Typho tried to discuss what the arrangements would be for getting everyone to work. Leia had already made calls to the security force and was on hold with the Temple, trying to find the best way to forward the data. She was almost tempted to go to the senate and just grab the first Jedi she saw there.

“Do you know what you are doing today?” Cordé asked Leia as the others debated.

Leia shrugged. “I figured I would head to the Executive Building once we have security settled. I wanted to get notes written up on everything I learned last night so that I can compare it to our data as soon as possible.”

She knew she’d been sabotaged from being able to show it to the general committee, but her personal relationships were developing enough that she felt she could reach out to Shea and Senator Darsana and a few others and present her ideas. She could probably get Padmé to lure Senator Onaconda into a meeting as well.

Cordé tapped her fingers on her leg a few times before she answered. “Do we know that Padmé was the intended target?”

She had said it quietly, but she’d also caught a lull in the general conversation and now all eyes in the room were on Leia. Who was not happy with this sudden turn. “I’m fairly certain I wasn’t the one being shot at,” she said, trying to recall the memory of that moment more clearly. Her eyes hadn’t really been the sense at work, so it was difficult to say anything for certain.

“If you go in,” Padmé said, “you’re coming and leaving with us. And you should probably stay in our office as well.”

“Your office has windows,” Leia objected. “Mine doesn’t.” Never mind that Padmé would be spending most of her day in the Senate building.

“Bail is setting up a temporary office in one of the conference rooms. Hopefully it will only be like that for today. They should be making headway on finding the shooter.”

But not necessarily finding the person that hired them. Or if they had any allies, or worked on a team. Or anything else that was relevant and pertinent.

It was hard to guess how much of this she ought to say, and how much they were already aware of, but weren’t stating.

“Would it be helpful for me to come,” Shmi asked, “or better if I stayed here?”

That created a whole other layer of uncertainty that shifted its way around the room. Dormé said, “I was planning on staying here. We’re all lacking sleep, and we need at least one of us thinking clearly. It will safest for Shmi to stay here with me. The fewer potential targets the security officers need to watch, the easier it will be.”

“Then I will stay too,” Shmi accepted. “And I will try and contact Ruwee and suggest he stay where he is. It sounds like it will be easier if he and your mother are not present.”

“Remind them that the senate will be out on recess soon,” Eirtaé suggested. “Any extra measures we have to take will only be temporary. We’ll all be coming home.”

Which sounded nice, but wasn’t something they could actually promise. Still, Leia held out hope. The level of panic (not worry, worry made sense) over one assassination attempt was a little jarring to her, and she was more surprised at Palpatine making such a public move over it. Then again, he seemed to be hovering over the whole Separatist conflict, claiming a supervisory role and sticking his hands into things at every turn.

Which, knowing his real objective, wasn’t surprising at all. But did create the image, for those not in the know, of him being maybe too idealistic and incompetent.

It was fascinating in a horrifying sort of way.

Once the plans were finished, Leia went to help Shmi unpack and to show her where everything was in the room. “I’m sorry,” she said once they were finished. “I didn’t realize Obi-Wan was coming. Or that he would bring Anakin. I should have given you some sort of warning.”

“I’m not sorry to have met my son,” Shmi pointed out. “And you are no more responsible than he is for protecting me.” When Leia would have objected, Shmi pressed on, “It was a pleasant surprise, Leia. I’m sorry that his Jedi master was so uncomfortable to see me, but based on my son’s reaction, it was necessary. And as his mother, I wouldn’t have it any other way. He may not need me forever, but he needs me now, and…”

Her gaze drifted out the window, lingering on the lines of traffic flowing between the buildings. Leia put a hand on her shoulder. “It was meant to be like this.”

Shmi shook her head, “Not exactly. There are so many ways things _could_ be Leia. We can never know which is the _right_ one. Or that one is the number of paths that could be right. Maybe there are dozens, hundreds of worlds and lives and choices where I never did get to see my son again and he still became a wonderful and happy person. But here and now, I have seen him, and I am his mother, and I will do what _I_ think is right. Because that is what I have to live with.”

It made a lot more sense, Leia thought, than destiny (or some “all powerful Force”) the way that Shmi put it. Especially from a perspective of doing it all again.

Although it was hard to see a world that Shmi imagined, because as far as Leia knew, her biological father hadn’t ever gone back to see his mother, and there was nothing about Darth Vader that Leia would claim was _right_.

_“There is a place you can put your anger. I can show you.”_

She shook off that thought, and the memories that came with it, focusing on the here and the now. “I am glad that you got to see him. That was what _I_ promised,” Leia pointed out.

There was a brief smile before Shmi leaned in and placed a kiss on Leia’s cheek. “You did. And in spite of our change of plans, you kept that promise. I just hope, next time, you’re able to keep it and we can avoid putting anyone in mortal danger.”

“That would be novel,” Leia found herself saying before she could think better of it.

Shmi raised her brow, but didn’t say anything in response. Somehow, Leia had the feeling her grandmother understood.

That wasn’t really how Skywalkers did things.


	25. Attentive

“Are you here alone?”

Leia looked up from her work, not smiling but trying not to show her frustration to the Jedi Knight. “This is my office. I am working in it.”

“I meant… sometimes you have guests.” Obi-Wan shuffled slightly, looking younger than Leia would have expected.

She couldn’t help it, her eyes narrowed. “You thought Shmi would be here.”

“It- The thought did cross my mind.”

“We got shot at last night. She’s safer where she is.”

“We” was a loose term. Leia was fairly certain by now that Padmé had been the only real target. Although she wasn’t sure _why_. Frankly, Senator Organa would have made a better one, he was the public face of their movement. Padmé was certainly outspoken, Senator Onaconda one of the most senior members, Senator Mon Mothma from a system that carried more weight than some of her colleges. But Alderaan falling would have sent the most direct message as to how dangerous and risky these negotiations were going to be.

So why Padmé?

Obi-Wan took a seat, not waiting for permission. Leia considered being offended, and then realized it meant he trusted her and thought he was welcome. She wouldn’t jeopardize that, especially not with, “Anakin thought we should volunteer to escort you all home.”

There was a careful irony in the tone, as if he was inviting her to share a joke. But she could see he didn’t find it very funny. “It’s probably unwise to draw more attention to ourselves at this point. And counterproductive to what we are trying to do with the negotiations.”

“I did mention that. And that Padmé wouldn’t appreciate it if we damaged what she’s been working on.”

His humor was more real this time, and Leia allowed herself a smile, shivering a little at the memory of Anakin’s attention riveting to her friend.

If he was like this with Padmé, what would he be like with their mother?

“Did he pull out any arguments on that not mattering at the cost of her life?” Leia asked, jotting down a note of something she remembered from the night before.

“Oh, quite a few. I don’t know that I so much managed to convince him as to put down his enthusiasm. I’ll have to try nursing his ego when I get back.”

She did frown at that, tapping her pen as she looked at him. “Is that the best way to handle it?”

He seemed surprised that she would question him. “I have known him for more than half his life. I’m used to doing this.”

Biting back more criticism, Leia asked, “Are you here to check up on us and give him a comfortable report?”

“Something like that.” His hands danced over the arms of his chair before he folded them into his sleeves, frowning at the ground. “Do you know if Shmi Skywalker will be staying here long?”

There was a strong temptation to beat about the bush and make him work for it, but Leia reigned in her temper. “I doubt it. Ruwee needs her back on Naboo as soon as possible. She’s been essential in getting their new refugees settled. She built the personnel network that is getting feedback about the new system, and personally vets any new members of it that work directly with refugees.”

A skill based partially on familiarity of spirit, Leia guessed, mingled with Shmi’s knowledge of human beings and her innate Force sense. Not powerful and overwhelming in the way her son’s was, but not negligible either. Leia wished she knew enough herself to offer to train it.

Obi-Wan looked curious, but she watched him put several questions aside and get straight to the point. “She’s not here to see Anakin then?”

“She came because her family was in danger,” Leia said succinctly. The handmaidens might not technically be as close, but Leia wasn’t the only reason Shmi had come running. “I doubt she would have sought him out, but if he tries to see her again she won’t reject him. He’s her son, Obi-Wan.”

She tried to place the correct emphasis on that while not being too overwhelming. Was he even able to understand? Did he have any idea what it was to be a mother? A father?

The feeling she got off of him in the Force told her he knew it was serious, but she didn’t think he understood what it meant. “Do you intend to tell Anakin that?’

“I have no way of contacting him,” Leia pointed out. “And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t really know I exist.” He’d been far too caught up in his mother and Padmé to have noticed their brief, almost nonexistent introduction. “It hardly seems worth the effort.”

“Not even for Shmi’s sake?”

“She’s a grown woman, Master Kenobi. If she wants to see him, she’ll find him herself.”

And Force preserve anyone that tried to stop her.

He seemed unsettled by that. “Do you think she will?”

Fighting the desire to scream, Leia leaned back, rubbed her eyes.

This was- This was too much. She couldn’t deal with this today. She had an assassin to find and track their contractor, a war to stop or at least materially damage, a Trade Federation to unravel, a Banking Clan to overset, armies to find, a Sith to stop, and she hadn’t slept last night. On top of having had an adrenalin rush.

She was running on borrowed time and borrowed energy and she did not want to handle this.

“Leave her alone, Obi-Wan,” she grumbled, rubbing her face as well. “She’s not going to do as you advise and isn’t the kind of person you can manipulate, any more than I am. Accept what’s coming and roll with the punches. You’ll be grateful for it later.”

There was a brief silence before he said, “That’s not especially comforting, you know.”

And he wasn’t going to leave well enough alone. She could see that. He couldn’t stop Shmi and he couldn’t stop her, but he would try and stop Anakin.

“We aren’t trying to sabotage you,” she offered, coming around the desk to crouch in front of him, offering him her hands. “We don’t want you to get hurt, we don’t want Anakin to get hurt,” (mostly, as long as he was good like this), “we don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

(Palpatine. Palpatine was allowed to get hurt. He was allowed to get hurt to death.)

“We just want to live our lives. And to help people,” she continued. “Maybe you don’t like how that looks, but it’s what we want. And if we can, we are going to help.”

He stared at her for a moment, pondering. “I don’t think you understand what my concern really is. What this means for Anakin, as a Jedi, that his old family has shown up.”

“Jedi never see their families?” Leia asked. She’d heard the answer from others, but as he nodded her stomach felt like an open pit, her fingers twitching. “Not even on accident?”

“Some probably do,” he conceded. “But most of the time, we wouldn’t even recognize them.”

She thought of Luke’s face, trying to imagine what it would mean to not know who he was.

And then, then she was in a cell on the Death Star and a short storm trooper had just rushed in, and his helmet came off and he was blonde hair and blue eyes in a face she had never known (but knew as intimately as her own heart in that moment) and thought about years of walking side by side, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, through fight after fight and having no idea, _none_ (except somewhere, in a piece of her heart she always knew and was always reaching, always _longing_ …) and nearly losing each other _so. Many. Times._

“Leia?” She came back with a jolt, Obi-Wan almost supporting her by their linked hands, the air thick with his worry. “What’s wrong? Are you-“

“Don’t,” she gasped, fingers clenching, “finish that sentence.”

He didn’t, but his worry only swelled.

She took one calming breath. Two. “I know what it’s like to be separated from family,” she admitted. “To see them and have _no idea_ who they really are. It’s awful. And there are _consequences_.”

Hoth. And _so many_ other occasions where she’d felt things she couldn’t quite understand and had pursued them, hoping, straining for some semblance of the truth, content in the end with what she could understand and what she could get, with just being _closer_.

“I imagine that, for other people, it can create a lot of stress,” Obi-Wan said, and she got the impression he was doing the opposite of agreeing with her. “But for Jedi, it’s different.”

“You don’t know that,” Leia shot back, and seethed when his smile came off as more than a little condescending.

“In this case, I believe I am a bit more knowledgeable than you give me credit.”

And Luke hadn’t been a Jedi, not like this, so she couldn’t really argue, but, “Anakin’s not like that.”

And his name still tasted numb and stale on her tongue, awkward from deliberate disuse.

Obi-Wan was frowning, staring at the wall, his hands now twitching in hers. “No,” he agreed solemnly. “He isn’t.”

* * *

Her next interruption left Leia wondering why she had bothered to convince Padmé to let her work in her own office. If people kept barging in, she’d never get her notes done. Still, she smiled as she stood. “Shea.”

“You look so happy to see me,” the Herdessan senator’s expression was almost conspiratorial and Leia relaxed. “Don’t worry, I won’t stay long. I know Senator Darsana sent someone by this morning, and you had your Jedi visitor.”

Her arch tone had Leia glowering, but with little to no effect. “Mater Kenobi came by, yes. You made it out before the lock down?”

It was a clumsy conversation shift, but Shea gave it to her, and Leia was grateful. “We did. I’m only sorry you didn’t.”

It was hard to tell, in the way she said it, if Shea knew they had been the target. If she didn’t, Leia wouldn’t be the one to tell her. No matter how tempting. “We are too. It had already been such an exciting evening.”

“Did you get any sleep?” There was so much kindness in the tone, Leia actually lost track of her thoughts for a moment, caught up in the feel of it.

“A bit,” she managed. “Something of a nap. I’m planning to finish this and then be done early this evening. I’ll go through it with my data tomorrow, when I’m more awake.”

Shea nodded, coming around the desk to glance at the notes, smiling as she saw the short hand code. “That sounds like a good plan. Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

Not wanting to seem rude, Leia moved to escort her out. She was surprised when Shea pulled her into a hug, squeezing so tightly for a moment, Leia thought her feet left the ground.

In the next second Shea had pulled back, blinking as she managed a crooked smile. “It’d be a shame to lose you, Leia Skywalker. Maybe try to not get shot at?”

Leia’s answering smile was just as crooked. “I really am doing my best. I think this was actually a record.”

She didn’t have the heart to explain how honest she was being after Shea burst out in a surprised laugh.

* * *

“So help me,” Leia growled, “if this isn’t _critically_ important-“

“I beg your pardon,” a familiar voice said from the doorway, soft and concise. “I had just come to see if you were alright after last night’s events. I’ve been making the rounds to everyone.”

“Your Excellency,” Leia stood, using a half bow as an excuse to keep her eyes on the ground until she had schooled her expression. “I’m sorry, that was very rude of me.”

Groveling. She was groveling, and it made her sick (she’d sworn to herself the first time she’d met him that she’d look him in the eye, cow him with her defiance, and she’d bowed her head like a little girl, ready for scolding), but she had to keep up the pretense.

If he knew, if he ever knew (all of this would be for nothing)…

“That’s quite alright,” he wasn’t exactly jovial in accepting her apology, but there was something bright to his words that was so cheery it was almost cutting. “You had quite the evening, didn’t you? And you’re still very new here, it must have been quite the shock.”

“I’ve been in stressful situations before, Your Excellency.”

“Indeed? You did quite well at the dinner, you know. I was very impressed.”

There was something inherently poisonous in that word, Leia thought. As if leaving an impression were the first hint of danger. “You’re too kind, sir. I was just following Master Kenobi’s lead and helping where I could.”

She’d managed to look up now, and his smile was not too tight, but had more teeth than she was expecting. Mas Amedda was behind him at the door, looking bored, as well as two guards. She had to mentally scold herself for expecting them in red, not dark blue. “Well, we were all very fortunate that he was there, weren’t we? His quick thinking certainly saved you and the senator.”

It was a question as much as a statement. Leia, who actually knew this game all too well, demurred. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if a Jedi hadn’t been present. We owe him so much.”

“Ah, but all the Jedi live to serve the Republic,” Palpatine’s smile should have been harmless, but Leia was too familiar with the man to ignore the edge to it. “And you, my dear, and the senator are the core of the Republic. Do give my regards to Senator Amidala, by the way. I missed her earlier when I went to visit. And I do want her to know how much I appreciate her efforts.”

Since he hadn’t actually voiced a quantifying compliment, Leia had to fight to keep the dryness from her voice as she promised, “I’ll pass along your words, Chancellor. Thank you for your visit. I’m,” she hesitated, “quite undone by your attentiveness.”

It sounded awful, but was as close to honest as she could get. And she was supposed to be inexperienced. So when he gave her a condescending farewell it grated, but she had to count it as a win.


	26. Reflections

Curled up on the bed next to Shmi, Leia did her best to keep quiet as the tears streamed down her face. She might have gotten away with the slight trembling, but the hiccups interrupted her grandmother’s sleep, and Shmi blinked awake too quickly for Leia to cover the signs.

“Oh, Leia.” It was a breathless whisper, almost no sound. Eirtaé slept through it, but Leia buried her face in her pillow anyway, hiding. “Do you need to get up?”

Two breaths and a nod and Leia felt Shmi move, sliding silently out from under the comforter. She helped steady Leia as she stood and guided them both out of the room to the sitting area, following Leia’s lead to the balcony without any hesitation. Shmi also didn’t object when Leia climbed onto the railing, curling up against the wall as she stared out into the city, watching the blurred lights of the traffic lanes.

Every time she blinked she saw fire.

“Was it the shooting, or have you been having dreams again?”

Leia considered lying, but the word that came out of her mouth was, “Both.”

Fingers combing through Leia’s hair, Shmi hummed a nameless tune, just loud enough to be heard over the outside sounds. Leia leaned into the touch, pretending at odd moments that it was her mother, on Alderaan, humming a familiar lullaby.

_When the moon is mirrorbright, take this time to remember_

_Those you have loved but are gone…_

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Leia muttered, rubbing her face. “It never brings them back.”

“Do you believe they really left?” Shmi’s question had a weight to it, one Leia was certain she would never understand. “That they’re truly gone?”

“If they’re not, then where are they?” It wasn’t a fair response, and Leia felt petulant as she said it. But the sentiment stuck.

“If they are in your memories, have they ever left you?”

_Those you loved are with you still—_

_The moon will help you remember_

“It’s not the _same_ ,” Leia complained, arms pulling her knees closer to her chest, tucked under her chin. “It’s just not.”

Shmi’s hand stilled for a moment, then brushed through Leia’s hair again. “You cannot stop the change, any more than you can stop the suns from rising.”

The words echoed in Leia’s ears, a different tone, more teaching to it, overlaying with the one Shmi had just used. It tingled up and down Leia’s spine, shivered in ways she couldn’t pinpoint. “I wish I didn’t know that.”

“You don’t have to be consumed by it,” Shmi answered, her head leaning against Leia’s now. “Any more than you must be consumed by your grief.”

“I know that. It’s not helping.”

There was a kiss at Leia’s temple. “Nothing I say will make it better,” Shmi conceded. “And you are not completely paralyzed by it. But it will consume you, if you let it. If you don’t let living take its place.”

“I’ve been living quite a bit,” Leia groused. “I’ve worked extra hard at it.”

Shmi chuckled. “You are very good. And very strong. And you don’t easily give up.” Her tone turned earnest. “Don’t let your life be stolen by those who stole love from you.”

The palest face, weathered and cold. Eyes that were blue and yellow in turn, a rotted smile. Cold ships and cold space where there had once been home.

Everything cold. Cold, cold, cold…

“How do you not hate them for taking him away from you?” her lips were numb as the words tumbled out.

“What makes you think I don’t?” was the immediate answer, which had Leia’s head whipping around, looking into somber dark eyes. “Even more than I hate myself?”

(I didn’t do enough. I didn’t do enough and I wasn’t strong and I wasn’t _there_ and if I’d just tried harder, just done _more…_ )

“We,” Leia licked her lips as she stared into those eyes and for the first time in a long time saw her own, “really are Skywalkers, aren’t we?”

A hand cradled her cheek. “The desert brought you to me,” Shmi whispered. “In the rage and in the storm. I always knew, _always_ , that you were mine.”

Resting her forehead against her grandmother’s Leia leaned into that, not really probing its meaning. Because what Shmi meant literally was not as important as what she was _saying_ …

“Right now, it’s still time to fight,” Leia answered. “But someday. Someday I would like to meet peace.”

“Then we will,” Shmi promised. And it echoed in her soul and Leia’s bones.

* * *

Three days later the Naboo were still working and hosting meetings in the conference room, away from windows and with extra guards checking everyone who left and entered. It was more than obnoxious, and Leia could see how much it was preventing work from getting done.

Especially with the few Outer Rim visitors who had opted to try and stay to see if things could be worked out.

“I don’t especially like your people’s paranoia,” Cham Syndulla said as he followed Leia down the halls, opting to meet in her office instead of Padmé’s temporary one. “Not that the danger wasn’t real, but if she can’t handle this threat-“

“Blame the Chancellor,” Leia said before she had really thought about it. She regretted the words, but made herself push through once she had said them. “He’s been hovering. It’s extremely inconvenient.”

She said the last as her door closed behind her. Dormé and Shea would be by in a moment, but it was safer to at least try and muffle her words instead of leaving it open for them. Syndulla took a seat, watching her curiously.

“You don’t like the Chancellor?”

His tone was mild, but Leia was at least clever enough for that trap. “I really don’t know him. He works with Padmé if he has anything to do with us at all. I think I’ve had more conversations with your senator than with his Excellency.”

She didn’t miss his lekku’s twitch. “Senator Orn Free Ta has a very… Core World way of viewing things. He seems to believe even more senators should adopt Senator Amidala’s levels of protection.”

The temptation was strong, but Leia swallowed the, “Of course he does,” and instead said, “Senator Amidala is from Naboo, which is Mid Rim. She’s very familiar with these sorts of tactics, which is why she still works with her handmaidens. She learned her lessons as queen very well.”

Which was why they’d used Cordé on several occasions these last few days to get Padmé out from under security and to more sensitive meetings that couldn’t reasonably be held in the converted conference room.

Syndulla understood the reminder of the siege of Naboo. “She’s very brave, to continue in politics with her life so often in danger.”

“She knows how much it matters,” Leia said simply. “She saw what happened to her people when the Senate got bogged down in politics when she needed quick action. She’d rather be at the front of the fight than waiting for someone else to win it.”

“I noticed,” Syndulla admitted, a spark of admiration in his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder as the door opened and Shea and Dormé entered. “And I see she brings others near her who share her vision.”

They weren’t going to solve peace talks, Leia knew as everyone got seated. He didn’t have the authority or leverage to promise that. But Syndulla’s presence wasn’t just a power on Ryloth. People on nearby systems looked to him to be practical, to read the shifting tides.

To mitigate damage done by a negligent government.

“We’d like to share with you some of our ideas,” Leia proposed. “We’ve been making adjustments to refugee movements, and we’d like your opinion on whether you’d think they’re useful or not in your sector.”

Noticing Shea’s smile, Syndulla produced a toothy one of his own. “I’m listening.”

* * *

“I need you to talk to Senator Darsana.”

“No.”

“Just this one time.”

“No.”

“Leia, we need his support.”

Leia spun, actually angry with Padmé for the first time in days. “You’re not listening to him. And he won’t listen to me if I parrot your arguments. It’s not going to work, and I’ve worked too hard to get his trust to waste it on something like this.”

For a moment Padmé looked stunned, then angry. “Leia, this vote is the _most_ important-“

“Not to him,” Leia tried to be firm without her temper rising. “His people are dying Padmé. Not just in numbers, as a way of life. He’s being practical about this. Very practical. You won’t win him over with idealism and how nice the future will be if everyone just stops being who they are and agrees with you.”

There was a swell from Padmé and Leia hid a wince. So much for not escalating this. “You think we should have an army?”

“I think we need to seriously reconsider why so many other systems think we need one. And ask ourselves who’s dictating the terms of the conversation to make this about the Separatists instead of the needs of the Republic.”

She hadn’t meant to pick a fight, especially not with Padmé. Not right now. But it didn’t help that Leia had been frustrated and distracted by her own hunt for Padmé’s assailant. It was impossible to make any real progress now that Leia was missing all of her old, even most loosely connected contacts. What she really needed was time to sneak out and down into Coruscant’s underbelly and start making a new network, but with everything that was being done up here, she just wasn’t finding the time and she didn’t have anywhere to start and-

“Do you want lunch?” Leia asked as Padmé opened her mouth to respond to the last accusation. The senator blinked. “I think we need to get out.”

“For lunch? No, we’re busy here.”

“We need a break,” Leia insisted. “And there’s a place I’ve been meaning to try.” Not part of Coruscant’s underworld, per se, but at least a place to meet a different segment of the population. “Obi-Wan recommended it.”

That had the senator’s attention. “You’ve heard from him?”

“No,” Leia rolled her eyes as they started to make their way around the floor, looking for a gap in the guards. “He mentioned it ages ago, just in passing. I don’t think he and his padawan are even on planet right now.”

“How do you know that?” Padmé was probably right to be suspicious. She’d been upset that Shmi hadn’t been able to see her son again before she had left, and had accused Leia of knowing something and not helping with it.

“Something Master Gallia said when she thanked me for going with Obi-Wan to the dinner. I think they’re on some sort of diplomatic mission. Maybe to prevent them from getting too involved.”

She probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. Padmé blushed and said, “I don’t think we’re making it off this floor unless we let Cordé in on the plan.”

Spotting a pair of droids a little further up the hall, Leia smiled. “That’s because we’re not using the right weapons. Come on.”

It took exactly no convincing and only the tiniest bit of explaining to get Artoo to agree to cause a distraction, effective but harmless. Threepio might have been a problem, but they managed to make him part of the distraction, and Leia didn’t object when Artoo showed up with the protocol droid outside the building, insisting they both get to come along. She figured they also deserved the break.

Flying in Coruscant traffic required enough attention that Padmé didn’t continue their conversation while Leia flew. Which was nice. And with time to think about the arguments without distractions, it felt like the senator was mellowing. Also an improvement.

“Are you really eating here?” Threepio asked as they approached the diner. “I must say, this isn’t exactly what I expected.”

“A Jedi recommended it,” Leia told him, and was delighted when his reply was, “Well then it’s probably safe, but that does explain the questionable taste. This is hardly suitable for a government official.”

“You’ll have to tell him that,” Leia recommended as they went in. A server droid wheeled up, and she had a belated thought. “Will the droids be a problem?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. Just make sure they don’t leak or anything. First time at Dex’s?”

They were definitely overdressed and catching attention. Regretting that a little, Leia took a long look around the room and smiled. “It was recommended.”

“‘Course it was. Here, lemme get you a seat.”

“ _Obi-Wan_ recommended this place? _”_ Padmé couldn’t quite whisper, and Leia couldn’t resist smiling at the awe and scandal in her voice. She needed to get out more. “Really?”

“He did. Although, to be fair, I’m not sure if he knew I’d bring you he’d have offered it as something serious.”

“How did he find it?”

“Something about knowing the owner. From one of his early missions?” She’d have to remember to double check when she ran into him next.

The food was tolerable. She’d have to also check with Obi-Wan about what he usually got. Maybe there was a house specialty. Padmé didn’t complain, and they had fun watching the other guests. And listening to Threepio making comments about everything.

“And how are we enjoying ourselves?” the question was jovial, and Leia smiled up at the Besalisk, twirling a fork between her fingers.

“It’s delightful.” The food may not have been to die for, but there was something so light and welcoming in the atmosphere.

And maybe a little threatening too. Which didn’t diminish Leia’s enjoyment one bit. It was an honest aggression, mostly coming from Dex, she thought, in the way of a man who was ready to cheerfully roll along unless you interfered with his business.

“Anything else we can get for you?” he asked, two of his hands balancing empty plates on a tray while a third reached adjusted his apron.

Leia looked over at Padmé, who seemed a little unsure of what was going on. “Could I get a refill?” she asked.

“Same,” Leia said, tapping her cup. Dex nodded and shouted at the droid as he walked off, who was over in a flash, refilling their cups. Leia took a sip from hers, eyes still wandering around the room.

When the droid finished, Padmé asked, “Are we looking for something?”

“Just getting the lay of the land,” Leia shook her head. “Trying to figure out why exactly Obi-Wan recommended this place, aside from knowing the owner. It’s probably not more than that, but I have my reservations when it comes to Jedi.”

“You don’t trust them?” Padmé didn’t really sound surprised, but she did sound serious, and that surprised Leia.

“That’s kind of a hard question. I don’t actually know that many of them.”

“Master Jinn and Master Kenobi were very helpful during the siege of Naboo,” Padmé reminded her. “I’ve found the ones that I’ve interacted with have been very good people.”

Something about that didn’t sit right, and it took Leia a moment before she answered, “Shmi said something about Master Jinn getting Anakin into that pod race.”

It was interesting to watch the complicated play of expressions on Padmé’s face. “He-“ She huffed. “He did. I was- Actually I was really angry with him at the time. I insisted on coming with him when we landed, and he kept ignoring me when I disagreed with him. And then… And then he died. Protecting us.”

And all was forgiven in light of that sacrifice? Leia frowned. “That sounds- Not to be too callous, but that kind of sounds like exactly what would happen if he insisted on doing things his way and not listening to anyone.”

“Probably,” the senator poked at her last bites of food, glancing over to the corner where Threepio and Artoo were chatting with some other droids. “I just… it was such a hard time. I look back and have so many questions about if anything we did was the right thing. But my people…”

And that, Leia perfectly understood. “We see a lot more in hindsight,” she said, shrugging. “But life isn’t always clear, for all of that.”

“Tell me about it,” Padmé grumbled, stabbing at the food left on her plate. She looked up to meet Leia’s eyes for a second before glancing away again. “I just want to help the Republic.”

And they were back to this. “Okay, so what do you think the Republic really needs?”

“More flexibility,” Padmé said, sounding more confident than she had earlier. “Circumstances vary from system to system, in terms of import and exports, populations, kinds of goods that are moving, fuel sources available, technology preferences.” Or access, Leia thought. “An army of the Republic isn’t going to solve that. We need system to system negotiation, better Republic wide laws for non-negotiable matters, more diplomats and negotiators for sector and system contracts.”

“And someone to enforce it?” Leia asked, taking another bite to avoid a smile.

Padmé still glared. “Systems have their own enforcement-“

“Tell the Anselmi that.” Or the Naboo.

“The Jedi-“

“Aren’t an army and aren’t a police force. There’re what, several thousand of them? Based here? At best that’s enough to assign one per a handful of sectors. That’s enough to add to a negotiating team, or have as a consultant for oversight. Not an army.”

And where was the army, Leia wondered. Based on Bail Organa’s age, the Clone Wars had to be starting soon. And would require, as far as she was aware, clones. Which would take time to make. Grow? And no one had mentioned them yet.

Concerning.

“So maybe we need something,” Padmé sighed. “But not… this.”

A shrug and a wave of the hand that encompassed the nightmare that had been the past few weeks. The arguing, the numbers, the attempted budgets projections (good news for the Banking Clans, not the Republic), the supply route investigations (oh look, the Trade Federation). Yes, Leia understood exactly why Padmé was standing in the way of all that.

But when it came to votes, “People are hoping that if we make an army it will end any potential conflict with the Separatists. And then we’ll still have an army to do whatever we want with.”

Maybe defend Republic trade routes. Maybe take Hutt space (that had Leia’s vote). Or maybe take back some of the systems that might have been, oh, reluctantly conscripted into the Confederacy. Or colonize parts of those systems that had trade goods people wanted. Or-

Or any number of other unpleasant things.

Yeah, Leia understood why Padmé didn’t want an army alright.

So, “I’ll talk to Senator Darsana some more,” Leia promised. “Not to get his vote, but to see if I can wheedle out what he wants for it. Maybe, if we can find other ways to address his concerns, we’ll have something to work with. But I’m not going to just ask him to join us.”

“That’s fair,” Padmé conceded. “I’ll talk to Bail and see if there’s anyone else he can think of with similar motivation. Not wanting a Republic army, but trade or travel enforcement. Balanced between sectors. I can do that.”

There was peace between them again, of a sort. That was fine. Leia didn’t need Padmé to always agree with her, just for their relationship to work.

And.

And to be a friend. Leia liked Padmé, how confident and sure she was in every move she made, every choice she stood for. Her queenly bearing, never mind that now she was a senator. Her long suffering patience and her quiet but unrelenting hunt for vengeance against those that had done her wrong. Robed in the civility of justice, chained by necessity to be less than pure rage, but still singing in the Force every time Padmé’s eyes landed on Nute Gunray.

That man would pay for what he had done to Padmé’s people. If it took the queen a lifetime and a drop by drop extraction of blood for what had been lost. She’d settle for nothing less.

“So what do you think of this place?” Leia asked as they finished, reluctant to head back to the Executive Building.

Shaking her head, Padmé admitted, “I still can’t believe Obi-Wan recommended it.”

“He’s a Jedi. And a man. Supposedly they aren’t picky about such things.” And if her visual sweeps of the room and casual eavesdropping had been any clue, he probably came here less for the food and more for the information.

“Can you imagine him bringing Anakin here though? What would Shmi think?”

“It’s not that bad,” Leia protested. It was at least civilized. Not a makeshift bunker with mud and bugs and only ration bars masquerading as food. “And I think I could like Dex quite a lot.”

“Oh that’s your type?” Padmé giggled and Leia’s lips twitched. “Poor Shea.”

“She’s-“ No, not going to have that fight. “Think we can convince Obi-Wan that Dex spilled all his darkest childhood secrets?”

Padmé let it go. “Even better. I’ll bet we can convince him that Dex told us all the stories of how embarrassing it was when Obi-Wan brought Anakin.” They both laughed at the thought.

From the corner of her eye, Leia caught a reflection of them off of the glass. But when she turned to look, instead of her own smile, she saw her brother’s laughing face.


	27. Regroup

“Go home.”

It was unusual for Senator Organa to use that tone. Leia had only heard it a few times in her life, right before (or just after) she had done something incredibly reckless and stupid.

“Bail, I can’t-“

“You’re useless here, Padmé,” the firmness in his voice didn’t leave much room for compassion, but Leia could tell he felt it. “You know it. You’ve been working the best that you can under these restrictions. It’s time to stop.”

“I’m the senatorial representative of Naboo,” she snapped back, almost slamming her datapad onto the table. “I was sent here by the directive of the Queen-“

“Who was right to choose you,” Senator Organa cut her off. “You’ve been very brave and very effective in many ways through all of this. But the Senate is out on recess, we aren’t having any floor votes, and the Chancellor hasn’t released you to normal security yet.”

“We moved offices, I’m not on probation-“

“Padmé.”

That tone was all compassion, deep understanding. Leia leaned into the feelings that came with it, shoving down jealousy that the kindness and concern were not directed at her. Naboo’s senator slumped a little, hands tugging at the datapad in front of her as she blinked. “It’s not fair. He can’t keep doing this.”

“Give him time. They’re still searching for the bounty hunter. Once they get that pinned down, which should happen in time for the next voting session, you can come back and work as normal.”

“It feels like we’re letting them win,” Padmé stood and started pacing, her hands swinging back and forth. Leia leaned against the wall, debating whether or not to add her own voice to this. “That we’re conceding victory by acting frightened.”

“Padmé, we don’t actually know who did this. It could have been about the vote, or someone at the dinner that night, or something not related to our work at all. We have to be cautious.”

Caution was all well and good, but Leia was more concerned that they _didn’t_ know what the motive had been. Politically motivated attacks should have a clear line to someone to take the fall at least, so that it would add weight to a message.

No political motive showing up suggested something more personal. And moving to Naboo wouldn’t change that. Just who ended up being the collateral damage.

“It’s taking too long,” Padmé voiced and Senator Organa huffed a little. “Bail, you know this isn’t reasonable. If you could just talk with the Chancellor-“

“He’s made it very clear your safety is his highest priority,” and Senator Organa did not seem thrilled at that fact. “You are from his home plant, and you were his student. It’s no surprise that he would react like this.”

But it was disgusting. And Leia didn’t trust it. Especially since even she was having a hard time tracking down Padmé’s assailant. It didn’t help being in the wrong time, but Artoo was as good a slicer as ever. She’d gotten footage from the official investigation, the collection of threats that had been filed against Naboo or the senator. She’d walked the building the shots had been fired from, once it had been cleared and opened. She knew just enough to hazard a guess at the kind of rifles that would had to have been used, and had Artoo tracking that path as well.

She couldn’t use him for everything though. It would become too suspicious.

And her own efforts at gaining contacts in Coruscant’s lower levels had been sketchy at best. She was making headway, but for what she needed now, not enough.

It was a lot. And it was stacked on top of her day to day work.

“What do you think?” Padmé had turned, was suddenly including Leia, who had to take a moment to reorient.

“I think we told your parents you would be coming home soon. That Ruwee is looking forward to your help with the next batch of refugees and the queen wants a full report on the project. I think if you are still a target we’ll have an easier time spotting an interloper on Naboo than Coruscant.”

Eyes narrowing, Padmé pointed out, “That puts my people in danger.”

It was hard to not just shrug off the concern. Leia couldn’t remember a time in her life where her physical presence wasn’t a danger to everyone in the room in some way or another. Alderaan had been peaceful, but with it being an open secret that her parents supported the rebellion, as their daughter she was never _safe_ to be around.

That hadn’t gotten better after Alderaan had been destroyed. If anything, the bounty on her head had made it worse.

“You have to make the choice,” Leia opted to not openly support Senator Organa, which made him frown and almost made her squirm. “Stay here where the Chancellor keeps interfering and you put Coruscant citizens in possible danger, or go home where you can have the Queen’s mobile protection and finish your work, but potentially risk your own people.”

She knew it wasn’t really a choice when she put it that way, and she could see Padmé looking for the trap. “If I’m not a target-“

“Then does it matter where you work? You can call in for meetings either direction.”

But she had promised to go home, and they both knew it. “You want to see Shmi again?”

“Of course,” Leia answered, making sure to not check the expression on Senator Organa’s face. “And she’ll feel better if we can fill her in on details that we can’t share over an unsecured line.”

Technically, their lines were secure, but Leia was nothing if not paranoid. And in this case, she wasn’t sure it was wrong.

“Go,” Senator Organa stepped over, placing a hand on Padmé’s shoulder. “I promise I’ll keep you fully in the loop. You and your friend have done enough here. We’ll keep things moving while you’re gone.”

There was a twist in the Force from Padmé at those words and Leia wished they’d been unsaid.

Things hadn’t been easier between Padmé and the more militarily ambivalent members of the Loyalist Committee since she and Leia had argued. Sometimes they were even worse. It made Leia’s project critically important in terms of keeping allies at times, having that one thing to agree about.

“I’ll go,” Padmé agreed. “But I want in on all the decisions, Bail. If I feel like I’m being left out, I’m sending Representative Binks.”

Something between a smile and a grimace crossed Senator Organa’s features. “I will take that under advisement.”

* * *

“Senator Darsana,” Leia looked up from the stack of documents she was trying to shove into a bag. She didn’t want to have to reprint them again, they had her notes. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He’d been sending his aides to speak with her more often recently. She wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.

He made his way across the room slowly, bowing a greeting that Leia managed to match with almost as much grace. “I hear you are leaving. I came to say goodbye.”

“That’s very kind,” Leia said, daring to make a gesture across her chest that she hoped she had correctly remembered. “We’ll only be gone for the recess. Hopefully we will get to meet again soon.”

She must have gotten it right because he copied it, something lightening around them as it always did when she managed to move properly. “You will be missed, nonetheless. And I hope that we are still here when you are again present.”

Blood suddenly cold, Leia tried to remain as neutral as possible as she said, “Is there some reason you wouldn’t be?”

He didn’t voice anything, but the shrug and movement of his arms indicated something she would have to guess meant cataclysmic change. She’d have to confirm with Threepio on that one. Senator Darsana wasn’t stupid enough to say they were being approached by, and considering, a Separatist request, and Leia wasn’t stupid enough to miss the implication.

Her hand rested on her desk and she willed her fingers to stay still, to give away no emotion.

“I would miss you,” she said at last, and knew it was true. The senator really did keep her on her toes, and took her on her own terms. He trusted her too, and she loved to please him. Or perhaps she loved the challenge of pleasing him. Who knew? “If I weren’t able to see you anymore.”

“The senate will always offer you much in the way of experience,” he suggested, his body language closing off slightly, though whether she had actually offended him or he was just mirroring her reticence, she couldn’t be sure. She wished she could taste the air like he could, but wasn’t sure enough in the Force to really know his intention.

“But there is never a good substitute for a true friend.”

She should have regretted the words as they fell from her lips. She was not Naboo’s representative and her senator was _not_ friends with this man. She wasn’t even really sure she was.

But he was loose and languid again, and even smiling in a way that wasn’t more than slightly threatening. “That is true. It is possible to promise many things, but one cannot guarantee friendship. And there is much that can be lacked without feeling wanting, if one has real friends.”

I want to help you, Leia was desperate to say. I want to solve your problems and save your people. I know what it’s like to watch your way of life be dying and have no way out. To have stop gaps and desperate measures and have it never be truly enough.

Maybe they weren’t true friends now, but Leia was sure they could be. And that _mattered_.

_This_ mattered.

“I want to see you again,” Leia admitted freely, allowing her hand to curl into a fist on her desk. “I hope I see you again.”

“And that when you do, we are still friends?”

His smile was teasing and something in it reminded her of Han a little (and how would he feel about that?), but even more he reminded her of Lando. Smooth and unflappable, oozing charismatic charm and subtly, underneath, ready to face any danger for his people.

She forgot sometimes (because so many of the memories stopped at Han and Luke and with her not breathing) how much she missed Lando. How he’d been there for her when it had all ended and she’d just wanted the whole world, every world, to go away.

He’d believed in her.

And he’d betrayed her.

And he’d helped rescue her, and the person she loved.

“I’m selfish,” she said at last. “It’s hard to make me give up my friends. I’m very resistant to it.”

He laughed, rough and low, shaking his head. “Well said, Leia Skywalker. I too, do not easily give up friends. No matter where each of us stands. May you have safe travels. I look forward to seeing you again.”

It wasn’t a promise that he would be here, but it would have to do. Leia made a bow of her most formal farewell and he matched it with his usual flair. Tears pricked her eyes, but she smiled as she saw him out and was delighted when he shook and then kissed her hand.

She didn’t know what would happen, but she was certain she would see him again.

* * *

“Get your feet down,” Eirtaé didn’t normally get that direct, but it was the third time she’d had to remind Leia. “This isn’t your ship.”

“I never thought it was,” Leia retorted. “There’s a distinct lack of footprints on the furniture.”

“It’s fine,” Padmé said, taking a seat across the table from both of them and frowning slightly. “She’s not hurting anyone.”

“Someone is going to have to clean it,” Eirtaé sniffed. “And it’s not a footrest.”

“If you’re going to be grouchy, go to bed,” Cordé yawned. “We’ve got another two hours before we get there anyway.”

Enough time to sink into the depths of a nap that would leave any of them more groggy than awake when they were done. Dormé had given up hours ago, but Leia was determined to be awake when they landed to adjust as quickly as possible to the planet’s solar rhythm. And so were the rest of them.

“I’m not grouchy,” Eirtaé grumbled, bracing her chin on her hand. “She’s just being messy.”

Taking a look at the papers that were scattered over the table and around Leia on the floor, she couldn’t completely disagree. “I’m a bit all over the place.”

But it was helping her organize her thoughts. There was an idea that had been tickling at the edge of her senses for a while now and she just hadn’t had time to digest it and figure it out.

“I thought you were done with your project,” Cordé yawned, picking up the nearest document and frowning at it. “You proved we’re all doomed.”

Leia leaned forward and snatched the stack back, whapping the top of Cordé’s head with it before she could think it through. “Not doomed. Just exploited. We need to find a way to work around the Trade Federations monopoly on safe trade lanes and practices. And probably kick down the Banking Clan while we’re at it.”

There were other groups, she knew, that were just as powerful, but these two seemed the most dangerous so far. Palpatine acknowledged them, and that had to mean something.

“You don’t think small, do you?” Cordé just grabbed another stack of papers, frowning at it. “Why are you helping with this?”

Not expecting the direct attack, Leia was stalled for a moment. “Why wouldn’t I help with this?”

“It had nothing to do with you?” Cordé suggested. “It’s above your pay grade. No one expects it. You’re not getting wealth or notoriety for it. Padmé at least is on a crusade to save the galaxy ever since what happened to Naboo with the Trade Federation. We’re here to save Padmé from herself,” there was a splutter at that. “But you weren’t even on Naboo when the occupation happened. So what do you care about it?”

If she made it out of this in one piece, Leia was going to have to remember that Cordé knew how to use sleep deprivation as a shield and a weapon and was very good at it. “I can’t just want to help?”

“You could,” Cordé shrugged. “Some people do. But I think this is too personal for you for it to be something as altruistic as that. You’re like Padmé in that way. She cares, but never as much as when she’s under attack. Or someone she loves is.”

Beyond the sleepiness there was a keenness in those eyes and after the initial suspicion and panic had subsided, Leia acknowledged that Cordé’s timing was minutely deliberate. She wasn’t just waiting for when Leia was vulnerable or more likely to talk. She had picked a time when they were isolated and safe.

And when had Leia moved from thinking of them as Padmé’s coworkers to thinking of them as her own friends?

Trust. It was being offered. And Leia was startled to realize she was terrified to accept.

“I can go,” Eirtaé offered, and Padmé frowned while Leia smiled, realizing she’d been well and truly had.

She shook her head, swallowing a sigh. “It won’t make a difference,” she told Eirtaé and was amused when the other woman looked surprised. “It is personal. What’s going on, what’s happened,” she swallowed again, this time fighting back tears and the sudden rage that clawed its way out of her chest, yowling at the injustice of it all. “It destroyed my family.”

Over and over, from her biological parents to her adopted ones, to her long-lost brother and the man she had almost called husband. The family she’d been born with, the one that had chosen her, the one she had chosen. All of them stripped away, until there was only darkness left.

And that blue ghost, lurking in that darkness.

_“I’m sending you to someone safe. Probably the only one who can help you actually fix everything.”_

She looked up and for just one second instead of her own reflection in the wall behind Padmé, Leia saw her brother, eyes fixed on hers, face grim.

And then he was gone (it wasn’t supposed to have happened, it wasn’t supposed to happen again), and she was all that was left.

“It destroyed my family,” she repeated, “and nothing I do will ever bring them back.”

Little Han, so tiny and sweet, hiding against his mother’s leg, a far cry from the smuggler and rebel general he could have become. If she knew him, she knew she would love him. But it would never, ever be the same as her Han.

She met Cordé’s eyes, unable to even guess at what was shining in her own. “I want to make them pay. And I want to make sure it never happens again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take a moment again to thank everyone who has left comments. It's exciting and entertaining to see your reactions (and your guesses). Your enthusiasm is appreciated and makes it easier to keep going. I, uh, grossly underestimated what I was getting into with this project. I expect it to drain me dry (and then some) before it is over. Your interest makes it easier and more worthwhile to keep going. So thank you to all of you.  
> And to the silent readers, thank you too. I do watch the numbers creep up each chapter I post. I'm glad you keep coming back. I hope you're also really enjoying this.


	28. Worth Less

Sipping tea and staring out over the city, Leia hummed and tried to pretend that she didn’t notice anyone coming up behind her.

For all the good that had ever done.

“You’re up early this morning,” Shmi didn’t pretend that Leia hadn’t noticed her (or was she like this with everyone, because she had been used to it with Anakin?), just got straight to the point. “I thought you slept well last night.”

It was getting really bad if Shmi knew how well Leia was doing even when they weren’t sharing a room. “I did. Early morning is when I think best.”

“And what are you thinking about? While you are on vacation?”

There was something so delightful about Shmi being a nag. Her tone was just too perfect. It had to be proof of their biological relation that Leia liked it so much, even when it was directed at her.

Especially when it was directed at her. “Technically, Padmé is on vacation. I’m just perpetually dubiously employed.”

“Is that how she would put it?”

The words had so much zing to them. Leia smiled as she took another sip. “Not a bit.”

“Will you at least come inside and help me get breakfast ready?”

Suddenly the humor was a lot less. Leia grimaced but nodded, accepting that whatever she contributed to this meal would be dubious at best.

She’d been avoiding practice while she was on Coruscant. And Shmi was bound to notice.

“You’ve lost weight,” her grandmother mentioned as they sat down at their table, Leia proud that not everything that she had touched was now charcoal.

“I’m always skinny,” she retorted, shoveling food into her mouth and ignoring when it crunched in places it wasn’t supposed to. “One of the few gifts of my genetic makeup.”

She couldn’t have been tall, no. That would have been too much to have asked to have gotten from her biological father (though Luke had been cheated there too, technically…) in the short list of things she knew she could blame on him.

Like being Force sensitive.

Maybe her mother had been short.

“You have many gifts,” Shmi countered. “One of which is access to enough food to take care of yourself.”

It was dawning on Leia that Shmi was getting more comfortable being pushy. Which was nice, and probably necessary for Leia’s better health. But was also inconvenient. “I get plenty to eat.”

She earned a very skeptical look.

They finished their meal in silence, Shmi focused on her food while Leia stared at the far wall and tried to find that happy place she had been visiting earlier where she hadn’t actually been thinking about anything.

“I don’t like you involved in this,” Shmi said, standing and beginning to clear dishes. She wouldn’t meet Leia’s eyes now. “I’m not comfortable with it.”

Leia first bit back a retort that it didn’t matter if Shmi was comfortable with it, it was Leia’s choice, she was an adult. Then she swallowed a series of platitudes where she emptily promised that everything would be fine. And finally Leia closed her eyes so that she didn’t have to see the look on Shmi’s face when she said, “I don’t expect it to get better before it gets worse.”

“I know.”

Closing her eyes hadn’t really helped. That tone said so much. “I can’t not do it.”

“I know,” the dry understanding in Shmi’s tone coaxed Leia’s eyes back open just in time to catch the tremulous half smile her grandmother offered. “That doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

Try what, Leia didn’t know. It was hard to believe Shmi wanted Leia to stop doing what was right. And her grandmother of all people had to know that sometimes that was dangerous. Even before her son had been taken away-

But that was what this was about, Leia realized, swallowing slowly. What it had always been about. Anakin had only wanted to do the right thing, and the right thing had been-

-To leave his mother behind.

“Shmi,” Leia found herself standing, moving around the table and holding out a hand, again forcing herself to not utter lies for the sake of comfort. “I love you.”

And that was the most painful truth of all, Leia realized as she looked at Shmi’s face. That someone could love you and want what’s best for you and still leave. Because they felt like it was _right_.

(She’d hugged him goodbye and demanded he come back and he’d smiled and stepped away to let Han tug her hair and give her a kiss, and his eyes hadn’t been smiling because her brother knew what they wanted, and he didn’t want it, but he was trying to be _right_ …)

“I love you too,” Shmi answered, voice thick with emotion. And it hurt, because loving Leia was hurting Shmi and Leia didn’t want the people she loved to be hurt by loving her.

“There’s no way,” Leia whispered (a crowded room, dozens of faces staring at her as she screamed, screamed because she couldn’t breathe, her chest had been ripped out), “that I’m worth the risk.”

(He wasn’t coming back. He was never coming back. He’d promised and was never coming back and she had to _live with it_.)

Shmi was brushing away tears and Leia tried to stop it, to say what needed to be said most. Don’t love me, I’m not worth it. I’m not worth the risk.

(Thunder and flames every time she closed her eyes. Never there, never able to unsee.)

“Leia,” she was wrapped up in Shmi’s arms, her grandmother disgruntled and still so patient. “You’re already part of me.”

She couldn’t close her eyes. She couldn’t but she needed to because in the glass of the window all she could see was Luke’s face, staring soulfully back at her, his hand raised as though it was pressed against the glass, trying to reach.

Her eyes squeezed shut and Leia felt the tears and felt her tripping breaths and for a moment the past was present and she could almost _feel_ …

(The touch of a hand on her shoulder, ghostly fingers suddenly pulling back.)

“I’m not worth it,” she managed.

Shmi snorted. “I wouldn’t have come with you if I believed that.” Warm, brown eyes smiling down at her. Offering peace and comfort and a feeling (in the Force?) that all was _right_ , right here, right now. “You wouldn’t have brought me. Not if you believed that.”

You’re worth it, she wanted to say. I always knew you were worth it. That’s why he sent me here, back to you. The only one he could trust.

To keep me safe.

But to admit that out loud would be to admit everything (that he lov-) and there was no way she could do that.

“I want to be worth it,” Leia managed.

Shmi kissed her forehead. “You are a gift, Leia Skywalker. A wish that I never had granted. You may not be safe,” and that was the look of a woman who had definitely raised Anakin Skywalker, “but you have been given. And for that, I am grateful.”

“Mistress Shmi, I believe you have a call.”

Rolling their eyes, Leia and Shmi turned to Threepio who was hovering in the doorway. “Tell them I’ll be right there,” Shmi said.

As the droid left, Leia chuckled. “He always had impeccable timing.”

“Blame Anakin for it,” Shmi tucked Leia’s hair behind her ear. “He wanted a droid with peak attentiveness.”

So Threepio would always know Shmi’s business and when she needed help, Leia realized with a start as her grandmother left. He wanted her to have a friend, a protector, so she would never be alone.

And Leia had taken him with her to Coruscant.

Damn.

* * *

“I’m not okay with this.”

Leia glanced up at Padmé then back at her desk, making another note on the flimsi in front of her. “I don’t recall asking your permission.”

It was a sign both their tempers were too high that Leia actually said those words and Padmé slammed her hands down on the desk in response to them. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Looking up meant facing the censure in those eyes, and Leia wasn’t sure that was worth it. But she did say, “I know.”

“You want to go to Coruscant, _alone_ ,” Padmé’s gaze was sharp. “To find the shooter. _By yourself_.”

“It would make the most sense-“ Leia stopped as Padmé’s hand slashed out.

“In what universe does that make sense? The _Jedi_ are working on it. They don’t need you.”

It stung, in a place that was soft and vulnerable and tested to breaking by time and misery and ruin. “I’m not doing it for them,” Leia almost didn’t recognize her own voice. “I’m doing it for you.”

“I don’t want it,” Padmé snapped back. “I’m not putting you at risk.”

“No,” Leia agreed. “I’m putting me at risk.”

“You do it, I’m telling Shmi,” there was almost venom in that threat.

Leia tried to brush it off. “She knows I take risks. She won’t like it, but she won’t stop me doi-“

“I’ll tell Anakin.”

Blinking at the weight and absurdity of that particular threat, Leia said, “You can’t reach him. He’s on a mission, and it’s a nightmare to make calls to the Temple-“

“If I ask, they’ll connect me to Obi-Wan, and if I say it’s scaring Ani’s mother, they’ll have to listen. They’ll do something about it.”

Ignore it, probably. The Jedi might be responsible for Padmé’s safety, but they had no such obligation to Leia and definitely none to Shmi. They weren’t the ones under threat. And the Jedi couldn’t arrest Leia for wandering around seedier parts of Coruscant. Hell, most of them wouldn’t be able to find her, they wouldn’t have any idea who she was beyond a name.

But even still, “You don’t want to bother them with something like that,” Leia protested. “It’s not important.”

Well, that had been the wrong thing to say. “Since when is your _life_ not important?”

Backtracking at this point wasn’t easy, but Leia had to try. “I meant that I’m not doing anything that dangerous.” Padmé’s look was withering, but Leia pressed on. “It’s investigative work. I’m not planning on confronting the person, just poking around and seeing if I can spot overlooked details.”

And if she happened to walk into a bar and the shooter was in the room and someone happened to spill a drink and a little fight started and Leia accidentally broke someone’s arm (or nose, or teeth) and information was coaxed, yanked, and prodded out of the guilty party, that was just a bonus.

It wasn’t like she was looking for trouble (and Han’s voice didn’t whisper in her ear, “Sure, your Worship”) and Leia knew how to handle herself.

“You are an employee of the Naboo Senatorial office. Your job is in no way to be an investigator or a spy.”

False on all counts. “My _entire_ job so far has been to be an investigator and it’s just bad luck that I’ve been stuck at a desk the whole time.” Trying to stay calm, she added, “I’ve been on the Outer Rim for years, Padmé. And any number of other nasty places. I know how to take care of myself.”

She pushed back her chair so she could cross her arms and (more importantly) her legs, so that her holster was in view. She knew Padmé noticed, but the senator didn’t seem pleased by the reminder. “That doesn’t mean you should go looking for trouble.”

“I’m not looking for trouble,” Leia shot back. “I’m trying to get ahead of trouble finding you.”

“Which is _not_ your job,” Padmé stressed. Leia noticed Eirtaé shift a little at her place by the door. “I have guards and security for that, and Coruscant has security and Jedi for it. You’ll only muddle things by getting in the middle of it.”

True only if Leia tried to tell them what she knew. That it was probably Palpatine that had indirectly organized the hit and the best method of investigation would be to start at the top and work their way down.

But Leia wasn’t that stupid, no matter how tempting and appealing it was.

“I’ll be gone for a few days,” she tried dodging around the issue, hoping placating would work. “You haven’t given me any new assignments, I’ve been forwards, backwards, and sideways through my data, my presentation is ready the moment anyone will sit down with me-“

“Then ask _me_ for another job,” Padmé snapped. “Don’t just reassign yourself.”

Oh, right. Leia wasn’t in charge here.

Damn it.

“What would you like me to do?” Leia asked, praying Padmé couldn’t come up with anything that needed doing.

“Get Shea a refugee program report. And help Shmi organize proposals to start testing on Herdessa.”

Well shit, that did need to be done. “We have the reports already-“

“And they need to be redacted, and the methods need to be updated for a full-scale industrial planet, and Shmi isn’t familiar with Herdessa’s systems but Shea and you are. With both.”

Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it…

“I can do that from-“

“You _cannot_ do it from Coruscant. Shmi needs you, and she needs you here. There’s too much of a time difference and,” Padmé’s smile was almost nasty in its triumph, “the Senate isn’t even in session. Shea’s not there.”

It had been a while since Leia had been this well routed and it stung. And it didn’t help that she was still smarting from Padmé’s no use to the Jedi (if she’d just listened to Lu-) comment.

Taking a deep breath, Leia tried, “Give me three days-“

“No.”

“Padmé-“

“No.”

“I can _do_ thi-“

“ _No_.” Finally leaning back, Padmé shook her head. “Leia, this isn’t about your ability, it’s about keeping you safe. I know you can handle danger. You saved my life.” And that was still terrifying to think about. “But I don’t want to put you in a situation like that again. Definitely not on purpose. And I really don’t want to have to explain to Shmi why I let you do it.”

Well, that was fair. “I just…” Leia turned and looked out the window, gazing at the garden below. The palace rose on all sides, warm and clean and peaceful. If she stepped out now, Leia would be able to smell the pink blooms on the bushes in the thick, warm air. Would be able to feel the overwhelming contentment and purpose that emanated from this building and the people that worked in it.

Like she could feel the worry and despair and sadness from Padmé, who only wanted to help her and keep her safe.

“I just want to do this,” she couldn’t bring herself to turn around and say it, just kept staring out the window.

“But you don’t _need_ to do it,” Padmé came around, put a hand on Leia’s shoulder. “Look, I’ll be heading back for a brief conference next week.”

Leia spun around so fast she almost took out Padme’s knees. “What?”

Eirtaé was meeting Leia’s eyes now, frowning in a way that told Leia the handmaiden was also not pleased with this.

“It’s only for a few days, I won’t be near the Senate, and I need to talk to Cham Syndulla,” Padmé said forcefully. “Before he heads back to Ryloth. I’m taking a full guard with me, using three decoys,” which was actually almost more risky because the decoys were all good, but no one was as good as Cordé, “and keeping my visits brief. He doesn’t want an army taking over security for Ryloth, Leia. We need that kind of support.”

“He’s not a member of the Senate,” Leia pointed out.

Padmé sighed. “No, but he’s got a lot of influence back on Ryloth, and while I don’t have time to actually try and unseat Orn Free Ta, we do need to consider the possibility that some of our fights are going to take place outside the senate. Unseating people if we must.”

Leia knew Padmé hated the idea of interfering with other systems’ sovereignty. But it was a good point. If you didn’t like the odds, you had to change them.

“I’m going to need you in those fights,” Padmé added, her hand finding Leia’s shoulder again. “Eirtaé and the others have to stay near me. You may end up being our only envoy we can send on short notice.”

Which was bad. Hilariously bad. Spectacularly bad. Naboo should have dozens of envoys that they could send for these kinds of matters. But…

But something had happened to the Youth Legislative Program, and there was the debacle of the Trade Federation war to deal with, and a _lot_ of money had gone into those court battles which had lasted for the better part of a decade and had not recouped nearly enough of Naboo’s losses, and some people had retired and others had just disappeared…

And a bunch were now working for Chancellor Palpatine. And there was nothing Leia or Padmé could do about that.

They had envoys, technically yes. But they were mostly stationed on Naboo and played a role in the Queen’s court. Not on Coruscant, interacting with the masses and making a galaxy worth of friends.

“I see your point,” Leia conceded. “I’m just concerned that they haven’t found anything yet.”

“This is the Core, not the Outer Rim,” Padmé was trying to be gentle, but it just came off as condescending. “Things are a little more complicated here.”

“Dense, not complicated,” Leia disagreed. “And we should still know more about this.”

Neither woman had anything to say to that. It just wasn’t something they were familiar with.


	29. Road Blocks

“I _hate_ waiting,” Leia grumbled, head tipped back, fingers rubbing at her temples. “It’s just a call and I hate the waiting.”

“Senator Sadashassa doesn’t normally keep you waiting?” There was a hint of worry in Shmi’s tone, but Leia shrugged, the feeling odd with her head still almost upside down.

“She doesn’t, but she has more control over her schedule in the Senate buildings. Once she’s off of Coruscant, she’s not the one in charge. She has to answer to Herdessa’s guild masters and company heads and union overseers, and fit into their schedules. And they have businesses to run. Her time isn’t as valuable by their standards.”

Something tapped against the table. “She could have told you she’d be late.”

“She knows I’ll understand.” Seeing her grandmother’s skepticism, Leia added, “She’s a friend. She won’t try and take advantage, and if it’s too much of an inconvenience she’ll make it up to me. I trust her.”

It took a few moments before Shmi nodded at that. “Alright then. We’ll see how this goes.”

It didn’t. They only had to wait five more minutes, but the person who contacted them was one of Shea’s assistants, informing them that Shea’d been scheduled for several emergency meetings that afternoon. She would call and reschedule as soon as they’d dealt with the problems.

“Anything she needs help with?” Leia asked, knowing no information would be offered. Shea’s trust didn’t equal her staff’s trust. “We’d be happy to offer any support-“

“No thank you. But we’ll pass your willingness along.”

Well, the aide was offended, but as long as they mentioned it to Shea, Leia wasn’t worried. The senator knew it was offered in good faith.

“Now what?” Shmi asked as the call ended. “Ruwee was hoping for a report.”

Leia rubbed the bridge of her nose, humming thoughtfully. “We’ll need to tell him. I don’t know that he’ll completely understand, but hopefully he’ll get it.”

“That we’re being ignored?” The undercurrent of venom in those words surprised Leia, but she mostly kept those feelings in.

“It’s not-“

But it was like that. Shmi wasn’t just angry that Shea hadn’t called, she was angry that the refugee problem wasn’t considered important. These were people’s lives. There were displaced and caught up in the middle of an intergalactic storm and Shmi finally had the power to do something and Shea and her people were now standing in the way instead of helping.

And Shmi didn’t have tolerance for their excuses. Never mind that they didn’t own slaves, profiteering didn’t look that much better outside of the Hutt syndicate than within it. It just sat on the opposite line of legality and you could (hypothetically) be punished for it.

In theory.

“I can’t speak for anyone but Shea,” Leia tried instead, “and I’m limited in what I can say for her. But I know she’s invested in this. Herdessa has need of more skilled workers, and a better system for dealing with the ones that they have. I don’t know as much about the organizations that she has to work with, though. She’s too composed to just sit around and complain about it if they’re not ideal.”

Shmi packed her things, ready to leave for the afternoon and start her refugee visits. “I know. But Leia, if she doesn’t learn to make this matter, it’s not worth it.”

Not sure exactly what “it” was supposed to be in that context, Leia frowned. “We do what we can, Grandmother. Sometimes,” she had to swallow (Alderaan to dust, Luke curled up on the bed around his missing hand, Han being dragged away to Jabba’s dungeons), had to close her eyes and bite her lip and take a breath. “Sometimes we fail. And we have to try again. And just live with it.”

“I haven’t fought as many battles as you have,” Shmi’s words were slow and deliberate and Leia had to hold back a snort. Just because it wasn’t combat didn’t mean most of Shmi’s life hadn’t been a fight. “So I don’t know exactly what you’re talking about. But I don’t mean to give up on this. I just mean…” Her brow furrowed as she looked down. “Why do we _want_ to be a part of all of this? The Republic. What good has it ever done us?”

There’s enough room in the galaxy, Leia told herself as she refused to have any sort of reaction. Made herself think. Enough for everyone. We don’t have to fight, we could all just walk away.

So why don’t we do it?

“I like having friends in the Republic,” she said, tapping a finger on the desk. “Shea, Padmé, Senator Darsana. I don’t see eye to eye with all of them,” any of them, really, “but I feel like they’re worth knowing and that they’re my friends. A Republic makes it easier to have that.”

“For you,” Shmi answered. “It does.”

Depth. There was so much depth and breadth to what separated them. Leia had grown up with privilege, intimately connected to places that were not her world.

Shmi had been lucky to escape Mos Espa, much less Tatooine. And so much of that could even be the _fault_ of the Republic.

“It’s an ugly world,” Leia struggled to find the shape of what she remembered and put it into words. It had, in fact, actually been worse. “When there is no trust. No agreements. No cooperation. It’s not like you can’t live like that, and even find beauty in spite of it, but-“

But then your enemies snuck up on you and when they left, your life, your world was all gone.

“There isn’t a right way, Leia,” Shmi seemed oddly determined about this and Leia wondered what was bringing it all on. “We can find a way to be happy without having to save things exactly like this.”

True, only, “It’s been me against the galaxy before,” Leia whispered, forcing her fists not to clench. “I’d rather not- I’m much happier. With this.” She met her grandmother’s eyes. “But you don’t have to believe in it.”

You don’t have to stay, she wanted to say. But less because it was true and more because it was a weapon and Leia knew she could use it. Use it as leverage to influence Shmi’s choice. And that was wrong and vindictive and selfish. And Shmi didn’t deserve any more of that in her life. Especially not from Leia, who she should be able to trust.

“The galaxy is a big place,” Shmi answered, everything about her gentle. “Surely you didn’t make an enemy of _all_ of it.”

“Pretty damn close,” Leia’s lips quirked. Then she frowned again. “Enough. We made an enemy of enough of it. By insisting we were right,” she conceded, the words a bitter, grating sentiment. “And by being willing to fight for it. And that’s really the problem, at the end of all of this. We learn to live together, or to carve out the space to live how we want.”

And she wasn’t sure anymore exactly which she had done, or when, and what had been the right of it.

“That’s true,” Shmi conceded. “You cannot fight the desert, but that does not mean you always yield to it.”

Balance. Something about balance.

“Right.”

But Shmi hadn’t actually agreed with Leia about the Republic. And that was something to remember.

* * *

“I’m still angry at you.”

There was a hint of heat to it, but since Padmé was also shoveling a slop of meat and fried bread into her mouth around the words, Leia didn’t take it too personally. “That’s okay. I’m still mad at you too.”

“Yes, but I’m mad because you’re wrong, and you’re mad because I’m right.” It was a bit muffled by the food and Padmé couldn’t manage a smile unless she wanted to dribble over herself.

Leia giggled. “No, you only think you’re right. The only way to prove you’re right is for me to be on Coruscant and for something bad to happen.”

“In that case,” Padmé swallowed and pointed, “I’m perfectly happy just assuming I’m right and ordering you around like this. It’s better for everyone that way.”

Except the shooter hadn’t been found. But Leia hadn’t given up just because she couldn’t be on planet. She’d had Artoo gather some more data for her and check into a few ideas she’d had while she was stuck here. So far it didn’t look like he’d found anything, but Leia was getting a better idea of where the Senate’s underground network _wasn’t_ , which was almost as helpful as knowing where it was.

“How was Syndulla?”

Padmé grimaced. “Not what I’d hoped. He’s not thrilled about having a Republic run military body, but he does want permission to organize more local militias. To deal with any increase in hostilities from the Separatists.”

“And have access to more weapons?” Leis suggested, perching on the arm of the chair. “From the Trade Federation?”

Scowling, Padmé managed to toss her wrapper into a rubbish bin in a perfect arc. Leia’s lips twitched and she bit back a suggestion to have a contest. The senator rubbed her eyes. “I don’t get it. How can they think that’s a solution to this?”

“Naboo did increase its fighter count and incorporate the Gungan army as an official military group after the invasion,” she tried to say it gently, but knew that wouldn’t help. “Can you blame him for wanting the same for his people? They probably need it, with all the pirates.”

“They have trade deals with the pirates,” Padmé snapped, and Leia understood why.

But she still pressed, “For pleasure or under duress?”

“Both,” Padmé grumbled, shifting back into her chair and crossing her arms, her frown a firm crease between her eyes. “Do you really think an army would work?”

It was tempting to answer quickly (not bringing an army didn’t mean your enemy wouldn’t), but technically Leia wasn’t sure about this. “I think having enforcement of trade and transport law would make a huge difference for disenfranchised systems. I think building an army to ‘deal with’ the Separatists is the height of lunacy and will only cause more problems than it solves. If it solves any.”

“The Chancellor agrees with that,” Padmé sighed and Leia swallowed an, “Oh, I’ll just bet he does,” to let the senator add, “But he doesn’t seem ready to negotiate with any of the systems. Even after the state dinner last month, it’s like we’re running on borrowed time and he just isn’t invested.”

Since Leia also couldn’t manage, “I’m sure he’s _very_ invested,” or any similar comment without slathering it in bitter sarcasm, it took her a minute to say, with as much moderation as she could, “Then we have to find a way to work without him.”

(Leia had several ideas for how to make that happen. With blasters. Or open windows. Or freak speeder accidents. Or-)

The suggestion didn’t seem to thrill Padmé, but Leia hadn’t expected much for just saying it. “It’s just… it seems like it’s hard to get things done if the Chancellor isn’t backing them.”

The words sounded like they had been dragged, kicking and screaming, from Padmé’s mouth. Her hand curled into a fist on the desk, she wouldn’t meet Leia’s eyes. When she finally did look up, it was as if every line of her expression were begging Leia to say she was wrong. That the weight of that betrayal wasn’t something she would have to carry.

“Then we’ll just have to work harder ourselves.”

Grief, sadness, aching desperation. Then anger and resolution. “Yes. We will.”

* * *

“Mistress Leia.”

She looked up from the speeder and braced herself against the side, tools hanging limply in both of her hands. “What is it, Threepio?”

“Senator Sadashassa is calling. I told her you were busy but she insists that she wants to speak with you right now.”

There was a grease streak on her face and more on her hands. Her hair was a mess, she’d been meaning to finish just one more thing for the past forty minutes before she was going to go in and have lunch. If Shea wanted her now, there wouldn’t be time for her to change.

“Can you put these things away for me? Or tell her I’ll be right in?”

His arms twitching, Threepio said, “I would be happy to speak with her until you are more presentable.”

Grinning, Leia shook her head. “No, she probably doesn’t have a lot of time. Tell her I’m coming and then get Shmi please. We may need her.”

“I would be more than happy to keep her-“

“Please, Threepio,” she tried again, picking things up. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”

It took three minutes to get everything cleaned up and put away. By the time Leia got in, Shmi was already seated in front of the holocall, speaking softly and answering the pointed, direct questions Shea was firing off. Personal questions. Not at all like the dinner she and Leia had had, a meandering conversation with slow, digging queries. This was perfectly straightforward.

“ _Ah, and Leia’s here_ ,” Shea said as Shmi’s gaze drifted up and lingered for a moment. “ _Having a good day, little friend?_ ”

“I’ve had better,” Leia slid in next to Shmi, ignoring the stare her grandmother gave her, eyes catching the mussy, greasy presentation Leia had allowed. “And I’ve had worse. How are your guild leaders?”

Even in the static of the call, Leia could see Shea’s eyes roll. “ _It’s like being trapped in a room with a bunch of varyingly attractive versions of Senator Clovis. I wouldn’t recommend it. Personally._ ”

Leia forced her expression to stay blank as she watched Shea’s face twitch, trying not to laugh at Leia’s appearance. “You have a moment for refugee business?”

“ _For you,_ ” she leaned back in her chair, her eyes darting to Shmi for half a moment, “ _always._ ”

Leia leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. “I’ll let Shmi give you the overview of our Naboo project, and you can tell us what you think.”


	30. Seed of the Lotus

A strong breeze was grazing across the rooftop and Leia let herself be caught up in it, leaned into it as she closed her eyes on the pearlescent city sunset that shimmered in front of her.

The smell was wrong.

She’d been feeling warm, caught up in the beauty of the moment. But once she closed her eyes all she expected was the thin, sharp scent of Aldera, crisp with an evening chill. And what she got was the thick warmth of flowers and water, brushed with old, worn stone.

It was wrong, and she hadn’t expected it, so she wasn’t ready when Threepio asked, “Are you ready to come inside, Mistress Leia?”

Princess. She’d expected him to say princess, and had to catch her breath before she answered, “In a minute. I want to see this.”

Shmi wasn’t fond of sunsets. She’d occasionally joke that she’d seen twice as many of them as any other woman her age and didn’t respond much to Leia pointing out how different a sunset was when there was only one sun.

Night, it seemed, was not a time to be out of doors for Shmi Skywalker. No matter how much beauty the sky created.

To be fair to Threepio, he was quiet until the sun had dipped below the horizon. There was still a reddish pink glow around the buildings, but Leia accepted his, “I believe it’s dark now, mistress,” as she looked straight up and could see more than a handful of stars.

One of the many perks of being away from Coruscant.

“I’m coming,” Leia told him, lingering as long as she could before accepting it was time to go back inside.

She did have work tomorrow.

The droid kept chatting about the sequence of the day and complaining about Artoo’s antics. Leia mostly tuned it out, missing what was, for her, the necessary beeps and trills to make the complaints into an amusing banter. But she didn’t discourage him as they made their way slowly down the stairs. She only rolled her eyes once, and that when she’d half caught a reflection of herself in a window and could have sworn she’d seen-

She had.

The shadow that was her brother blinked back at her, trapped in the light bouncing back off the panes. He stared at her soulfully, a hint of mischief in his eyes, but mostly grief.

She’d never be sure if it was the grief or mischief that made her believe.

Her lips formed the word, “Luke,” but no sound escaped as she brought up a hand, achingly slow, watching him mirror her until her fingers touched glass and the image of his palm pressed against hers.

His prosthetic hand.

The faintest line on his wrist to mark her memory, to test if this was right or just some cruel, delusional vision. She looked up again, into his face and there was only kindness there. Or maybe a bit of worry. She watched his mouth say, “Leia,” but no sound reached her.

It never would. She’d never hear his voice again.

But he was _here_. How?

Slowly, so slowly, she almost couldn’t breathe for how much this hurt, Leia turned on the narrow stairs, bringing her other hand up to meet his. She’d almost pressed it against the glass when she paused, hesitating. So unsure…

“Mistress Leia?”

Her right foot wasn’t braced right. She jerked, slid, yelped, and thudded on her butt down several of the stairs, throwing her arms behind her head in a desperate flutter.

Threepio’s, “Oh Mistress Leia!” was echoed by Shmi’s, “Leia, are you alright?” as her grandmother dashed around the corner, assessing.

“I’m fine,” Leia grumbled, taking a moment to catch her breath before she tried to stand. Her tailbone _hurt._ “I just slipped.”

“You don’t slip,” Shmi noted as she helped Leia up, checking for injuries.

Leia snorted. “Everybody slips. I’m due, I promise.”

And better here than somewhere else, where someone important might have been watching.

Shmi smiled a little, but Leia could feel an almost probing in the air around her. “Are you alright?”

There were some things Shmi could do lightly, but looking after someone she loved wasn’t one of them. The intensity of her words was a balm though, and Leia leaned into it and into Shmi’s offered hug, taking a moment before she answered. “I keep seeing ghosts.”

“Good ones? Or bad ones?”

It was such a practical answer Leia almost giggled. “Good ones. One,” she corrected absently. “Just one.”

“Your brother?” Shmi asked, and now she was gentle, so very careful.

Blinking tears Leia just nodded into Shmi’s shoulder, breathing as slowly and evenly as she could. Noticing the smells, the sounds, in the half lit hallway.

Taking nothing for granted.

Shmi’s quiet, “I’ve got you,” kept Leia grounded, even as she felt like part of her was slipping away. A warm hand making circles on her back soothed tension, a hum in her ear kept her present and calm.

She’d pulled back and offered Shmi a weak smile when Threepio said, “I’m so sorry Mistress Leia, but I’ve just realized I don’t know where you’re from or how you honor your dead. If you tell me I can get you anything you need and make any necessary arrangements for you to- well, would it be to release or invite the spirit of your brother? Oh dear…”

It shouldn’t have been funny, but Leia chuckled, reaching out to brush her knuckles across his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered before he could splutter with too much indignation. “I really appreciate you offering that.”

“I couldn’t offer you less,” he protested. “You’re part of the family. We have to take care of you. Especially since you’re always getting yourself into trouble.”

She could hardly argue with that. “Well, thank you. I really, really do appreciate it.”

“You’re quite welcome, I’m sure. But were exactly are you from?”

It was… painful to admit it. She was so careful to guard so many of her secrets. But this was Threepio, and if she’d learned anything it was that for all his talk, he _could_ keep a secret.

And Shmi would never tell. Not a soul.

Leia whispered, choking over years of memories (and it was _real_ and would never be dead again). “I grew up on Alderaan.”

* * *

It wasn’t as simple as just sending Threepio out, unfortunately.

First, Leia had to decide what kind of ceremony or memorial she wanted to have, given that most the traditional options for Alderaanian funereal memorials weren’t really an option in Theed. And that Luke’s ghost was apparently haunting her in mirrors (that was _not_ how he’d described dead Obi-Wan and Yoda) and she wasn’t sure she really wanted to get rid of him and send him peacefully on to the afterlife.

If he would even allow it. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t.

“What would you like?” Shmi asked, sipping her tea and keeping a sharp eye on how often Leia sipped hers.

It was hard. Hard to even think about it. “I feel…” so hard to say it. “I feel like he has a message for me. But I’m not sure Alderaan has anything to invite wisdom like that.”

Once she said it, she knew it was wrong. Knowledge and wisdom of the ancestors was frequently sought on Alderaan. Mostly in old tomes and poetry, bit and pieces of wisdom that had survived ages by process of elimination. But sometimes…

Sometimes you went to the mountains, the temple made by the gods, and asked for a vision.

Not that Leia _believed_ in all that. Even with the Force. And there were no mountains around here. But it was as good a place to start as any.

“You need a sacred space,” she murmured, turning her mug in her hands. “Maybe a holy one, but more… private. Personal.”

Intimate. Quiet.

Meditative.

Damn Jedi, ruining every good, normal thing she had left. Couldn’t even think about meditating any more without feeling a sense of foreignness to it.

In the end, she and Shmi had come up with something that was a mix of various ideas and cultures, frequently unrelated, and yet…

Cleansing baths were a common tradition between Alderaanian and Naboo culture, with small detail variance. Alderaan favored hot or cold sacred springs, Naboo, elaborate ritual baths with herbs and flowers, each with their own symbolism. Leia wasn’t intimately familiar with it, but Shmi had been learning about the local flora and was able to prepare a mixture.

Sword lilies, rosemary, and blue salvia for remembrance, wisdom, and healing. Red and white chrysanthemums for love and truth. Basil, thyme, and lion’s paw (a touch of home) for courage and luck. Hyssop for cleansing and lotus blossoms. For insight and eternity and being reborn.

And salts. Shmi insisted on the salts and Leia only felt that it was right. She wasn’t visiting one of the sulfurous springs in Alderaan’s mountains, but she did want to feel grounded. Besides, salts were also cleansing and Shmi said they were the sign of the desert that people carried in them, that bound water in flesh and reminded that the desert could give life just as much as it could take it away.

Leia liked the weight of that promise. The hope it carried with it.

Even in their relative poverty (Leia still hadn’t been able to get Shmi to relocate, even with both of their improved work situations), they had a good sized bath in their home. Shmi dimmed the lights and insisted on candles, placed at specific intervals around the room.

Leia was pretty sure the pattern if not the candles was a Tatooine feature. Hopefully it would mean something to Luke.

The water wasn’t just warm, it was hot, and the air was thick with steam as Leia slid in and got comfortable. She made herself relax as Shmi got to work, washing Leia’s hair and massaging her head and neck until she was almost limp with comfort. Leia didn’t notice Shmi leaving as she soaked in the silence, the only sound the slight pop of the candles and the steady rhythm of her own breath.

When the water was tepid she forced herself out, shaking a little as she dried, her limbs reluctant to carry her own weight.

The lights in the rest of the house were dim. Shmi met her and gave her tea to drink, warm and spicy. She drained the cup as quickly as she could, accepted her grandmother’s hug, and slipped into her room to curl up on her bed.

The room smelled of the same flowers that had been in her bath. Leia drifted to sleep half caught up in a memory she knew wasn’t hers, redolent with the scent of wildflowers.

* * *

Luke Skywalker was one of the kindest people Leia had ever met on any world. And even he could be a real ass sometimes.

It was an open field, empty and yellow gold. Not Alderaan, not Tatooine, and (thank goodness) not Coruscant. It almost looked like it could be on Naboo. Wherever it was, Leia had appeared here (only partially voluntarily), and her brother wasn’t anywhere in sight.

“What do you want?” she demanded, lying back on the grass and staring up at the sky. It was bright blue, just after midday she thought. “I know you brought me here, so why won’t you tell me why?”

“I kinda hoped we could just say hello first.”

She was sitting before she could think through the motion, reaching out and almost shrieking when he actually caught her hand, pulling and helping her get to him, to crawl into his arms before she screamed and cried like she hadn’t dared since she was a child. “Luke…”

“I know,” he whispered, and she almost couldn’t hear it, it sounded so faded and distant even though she was in his arms, him speaking into her ear. “Believe me, Leia, I know.”

“You _left_ me,” she wasn’t sure he could hear her, the words were so choked, but he’d always understood her better than other people, and she knew he had to be feeling her in the Force-

Everything. Everything here felt _real_ , in ways that almost made it feel fake and false.

He stroked her hair, and she could hear the tears in his faint voice. “I know. I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t go,” she was wailing, whining like a small child, and she knew and she refused to stop. “You can’t leave me ever again.”

She felt more than heard him chuckle. “I won’t. I promise.”

* * *

The feeling of raw longing was dancing over her skin. Painful, it crawled along the surface of her face, creeped down the back of her neck, licked over her chest and ribs, seeped into her bones, sang down her legs and flicked back up and across her arms, itching into her toes and fingers and burning on the tips of her nails. She almost imagined that her hair was burning too.

It was a surreal sensation.

Damn the Force.

“Hhng,” Leia groaned, trying to roll over and only making it about halfway before flopping onto her back again. The pain flared, then faded slightly, leaving a tingling sensation behind. She imagined it would be back to pain the moment she tried to move again.

It was, but this time she made it onto the floor.

The thump summoned Shmi.

“Leia? Are you alright?”

Hints of dawn creeped across the hall floor. Leia watched them for a few moments before forcing her eyes to move and look at her grandmother, unwilling to add dignity to the position of a single one of her other limbs.

It would be too much effort.

“Hnneh.”

Shmi actually chuckled, but held back her touch when Leia flinched. “That good, was it?”

Voice, she needed to voice-

_“I saw him.”_

She sent it out in the Force and felt Shmi’s shock as the words reached her mind, settled there without invitation or seeming origin. Then her grandmother just sighed, curled up comfortably next to Leia on the floor and gently laid her fingers over Leia’s, the softest echo of words coming back, _“Will you miss him?”_

Which was _not_ what Leia had been expecting. Especially since Shmi’s mouth at least still worked. But, _“He’s still there. Somewhere.”_

It was hard to explain, really. Hard to elaborate since she hadn’t told Shmi about the sky growing in her heart, covered in darkness that had used to be stars. How it felt like one of those stars was now peeking out, shoving back the blackness, making it retreat.

And it sure as hell didn’t cover why she felt like someone had lit her on fire or dragged her through the desert, leaving her as raw as she had felt the first day that she had arrived on Tatooine. But as sensation came back and pain receded, she knew she didn’t need to. The words wouldn’t have been adequate but the feelings, those Shmi understood. Even as they halfheartedly crawled their way across the floor from Leia’s mind and heart to her grandmother’s, oozing reluctance all along the way.

Exposing herself was a danger. Leia couldn’t escape that. But in this moment, she didn’t want to. It was too right.

“May I see him?” Shmi whispered when she’d had time to understand, to absorb. When Leia immediately stiffened she added, “Not right now. But… someday?”

It was a reasonable question. And Leia couldn’t answer it. Because if she showed him, if she introduced him, she would have to tell Shmi the whole truth. And Leia was _not_ ready to do that.

But Shmi wasn’t just Leia’s grandmother, she was _Luke’s._ The one he had actually known about. Leia had no right to keep Shmi from him.

Not if he really was staying. Wherever he was.

“Someday,” she managed to force out, the words scraping out of her throat, cutting past her lips. “If he stays, I’ll introduce him. Someday.”

If she ever figured out how…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've maybe been really excited for this chapter. Just a bit.


	31. Resistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder, this fic has been tagged with "politics" for a reason. You have been warned.

“ _We’re having trouble maintaining negotiations. Someone leaked that the MCA is still progressing._ ”

His voice was calm, but Leia knew her fath- Senator Organa’s expressions well enough to know that her fa- he was furious. Probably about the military bill and the leak. The other senators on the call were also showing muted faces, but Leia though Shea was also very angry, Senator Ta looked more than a little guilty, and Senator Darsana’s aide more than a little ambivalent.

Senator Darsana hadn’t been at one of these meetings personally in several weeks. Leia swallowed fears and prepared herself for the worst.

“Can we release some of our counter plans?” Padmé asked. “Make it clear that we’re also making progress?”

“ _The problem is we aren’t,_ ” Shea’s tone was sharp enough Leia flinched. “ _The Chancellor is managing all of our ‘negotiations’ at this point, and he’s not making doable promises. The Trade Federation isn’t going to agree to the concessions he’s implying on their behalf, and if they don’t we’re back to square one._ ”

Not surprising, but still saddening. Senator Ta felt the need to add, “ _I’m sure he’s doing the best he can. But these systems are in a state of rebellion. We can’t expect other members of the Republic to want to make concessions for non-members._ ”

“ _Not all of them have technically left_ ,” Senator Organa pointed out. Leia knew that tone. That was his, “I will not repeat myself again, idiot,” tone. “ _Many of them haven’t. But they know their negotiations with Count Dooku are giving them potential leverage with the Senate. They can’t afford to relinquish that.”_

“Especially if they’re being accused of treachery,” Padmé’s disdain was even more clear than Bail’s. “They probably fear retaliation from the Republic, losing voting rights or tax exemptions because of their interest.”

“ _They are attempting a sort of coup. Surely, there should be consequences_.” Leia always disliked hearing from Senator Aak. He felt like a sleemo no matter how many times she tried revise her opinion.

“ _Resisting centralizing power in the Republic is not the same thing as rebellion,_ ” Senator Dio had been mentioning Uyter’s concerns about that very fact since this whole mess had started.

Unfortunately, Senator Aak seemed to regard her as much a traitor as any Separatist. “ _It is if the Senate agrees that centralizing power is in the best interest of the Republic_.”

“ _Let’s not confuse treason with disagreement_ ,” Senator Organa said firmly, leaning forward. Not a good sign. “ _As members of the Senate we frequently continue to debate statutes and orders even after they have been signed into law. Rebellion implies something very specific, and does not include negotiations with suspect parties._ ”

Actually, that was fundamentally untrue. Leia knew from plenty of personal experience that systems could dabble in rebellion by negotiating trade deals, arms trades, and travel agreements, all without ever lifting a weapon against their central government. The Alliance had relied on that to continue when they hadn’t been able to get more offensive results.

Before anyone could point that out, Padmé had added, “And the Republic is by nature a governing body where all of its members were, at one point or another, at war with each other. We leave grievances in the past when we welcome new members. There’s no reason to hold grudges against current ones.”

“ _Like the Trade Federation?_ ” Senator Darsana’s aide suggested softly, the play of his hands warning Leia of the undercurrents of that statement. She couldn’t reach Padmé, but made a gesture to Dormé, who was standing behind the holo equipment, and who passed the message along.

Caution.

“ _Even you would agree, Senator Amidala, that justice is required for members to completely forgive past grievances?_ ” Senator Aak was far too smug with that statement.

When Padmé couldn’t immediately answer, Senator Mothma stepped in, saying, “ _We do have a desire for justice. But not all justice is punishment. Sometimes justice is forgiving the unconventional, because they are the ones who have been wronged. The Chancellor’s negotiations more than suggest the dissenting members have valid concerns that require redress_.”

“ _He also insists the matter will not come to war_ ,” Senator Darsana’s aide was cool and remote, still in a way that made Leia more nervous than movement would have. “ _As if war were not already a reality for many of our people._ ”

“Many of our systems are suffering in violent conflicts,” Padmé agreed. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t act to prevent a civil war. Which is the matter of discussion before the Senate.”

Senator Aak shook his head. “ _The matter before the Senate is the development of an army to keep the peace. To support the Jedi. No one said anything about building one to ignite a civil conflict._ ”

But that was what it would do, especially at this point in the negotiations. Suggest that the Republic was willing to enforce their points by more violence, rather than solving the underlying problems. Problems that could be aided by first passing more restrictive legislation for certain trade guilds and commerce unions, and then having the physical organizations to enforce them.

As much as she wanted to simply vote no against any army, Leia knew they couldn’t. Which probably made it a good thing that she wasn’t in this senate. She would only cause rifts between her and the people she valued the most.

“The issue still stands that an army of the Republic would be underfunded and undertrained,” Padmé had made it through a list of points in retaliation to Senator Aak and was getting frustrated. “We don’t have the infrastructure right now, or the personnel. We’d be better suited using our time to improve our refugee efforts and by reaching out to one another to see if we can meet other needs.”

Sliding in with a smile, Shea added, “ _We’ve been implementing some measures suggested by and tested on Naboo for integrating and placing refugees. The preliminary results have been more successful than I had hoped. I would recommend that each of us on this committee review the program and see if we can’t make adjustments._ ” She cut off Senator Ta’s spluttered objections with, “ _Even if all our negotiations fail and we do eventually go to war, having the ability to move more refugees can only be an asset in that situation, not a burden. Better to test it now rather than later._ ”

Bless Shea, she really understood. It had taken some time and a few more meetings, but she’d won Shmi over with her persistence and straightforward acknowledgment of the problems most refugees faced. Being unwanted. Being foreign. Being displaced.

They _were_ having a good deal of success on Herdessa, placing people in jobs more quickly than they had on Naboo. It was harder for families with children, the education options were more restricted. But there was real promise. And the more kinds of systems that entered the project, the more easily they could cover for each other…

Shmi had been delighted when Shea had presented a list of systems she thought should be approached next and had promised to strong arm some of them into cooperating if needed. It was a relief. Shmi and Shea were both far too stubborn to be at odds with each other and not have it impact Leia’s life.

And speaking of at odds. There was a palpable tension in the room when the call ended.

“Well that could have gone better,” Governor Bibble was an interesting mix of occasional optimism and persistent pessimism. Leia tried not to roll her eyes. “Do you think they listened to you at all?”

“A few of them,” Padmé said, her posture an almost perfect match to the queen’s, sitting across the room. Old habits. “Bail’s insisted -Senator Organa that is- that I take point on this. And I think it’s been a big help. I’m not stepping on his toes nearly as much and he says I have the passion to carry this through where more placid tempers could look like complacency.”

Leia didn’t giggle, but she couldn’t look at Cordé’s face. If she did they would both laugh. The queen only smiled. “He trusts you to seek justice, not simply have your way. That is bold of him.”

Brave too, Leia thought. Padmé lacked experience as a senator. She was a brilliant strategist, had firm morals and ethics, and believed government existed for the support of the people. But she did _not_ have a lot of experience being a part of senatorial style committees, and for all of her awareness of Mid and Outer Rim problems, she could sometimes be short sighted.

Her open disdain for the Trade Federation being the easiest example. Leia agreed with Padmé’s sentiments, but knew Senator Organa had made better progress recruiting from the Federation’s allies by keeping certain caustic opinions to himself.

“We’ll do our best to honor that trust,” Cordé actually spoke up. “We could use some assistance from the council. If the refugee program is going to be offered as an official alternative focus, we’ll need more data and reports on what sectors the refugees are succeeding in right now verses where we can make improvements.”

“We’ll discuss moving funds,” the queen couldn’t have missed the winces on several faces, but she was as calm as ever. “City beautification can be adjusted, we’ve repaired the worst of the damage from ten years ago. And we may be able to access monies from our security forces if we send promising refugee recruits their way. Any other suggestions?”

As fun as it would be to watch council members volunteering each other’s budgets, Leia was glad when Padmé stood and gestured for her handmaidens to follow her.

“Well, that was exciting.” Leia’s sarcasm won a smile from Padmé, but also a shake of the head.

“We need more to be getting done, and we need it fast. The refugee settlement will help with some backlogged problems, but it doesn’t change the terms of negotiation as far as the Chancellor has laid them out.”

“You didn’t mention the mining guild disputes,” Cordé’s voice was soft, but the condemnation in those words was powerful.

Padmé only sniffed. “It wasn’t relevant.”

“You promised to keep Senator Organa aware of any political motives that might have led to the shooting.”

“The guild members aren’t _that_ angry.”

The palace didn’t lend itself to bickering, and so the conversation stopped, but Leia found herself torn on which side to come down on. Cordé was right in that there was some evidence of discontent, with the refugee situation and higher restrictions with new safety protocols, and something was better than nothing since they still hadn’t found the shooter yet.

But… assassination? Of a favored and revered queen? Unlikely. There was nothing in the incident to suggest the threat was related to problems on Naboo. At all.

* * *

“Mistress Leia, there’s been an explosion near the palace!”

She hadn’t needed Threepio’s panicked words to tell her something was wrong. Leia’s heart had suddenly jolted in a very unpleasant way only an hour ago, and she hadn’t been able to reach anyone on planet for just as long, to get reassurances and an explanation.

“Where?”

The grey and black of the station walls was the wrong shape, but only the hint of similarity was needed for Leia to remember, to regret. To be dragged back into stillness and silence in her own soul, shoving aside panic to make room for reason and action.

Panic would come later, after the battle had stopped.

Crisp steps down the hallway, measured so that Threepio could keep up and give her the news, “Captain Typho won’t report any casualties, but there’s been serious damage to the several of the Gungan/Naboo peace structures near the gardens. The senator’s party was supposed to go there today and no one will tell me if they stuck to their original schedule.”

They had, Leia knew it as she flew down a flight of stairs and ignored the looks she was getting from the miners watching her. If there had been an explosion someone had confirmed Padmé’s presence (Leia had _told_ them the senator was the real target) before they struck. There was no other reason to hit that target at this time.

Shmi.

The thought made Leia pause, long enough Threepio almost crashed into her. She ignored his yelp and concerned questions as she followed the logic of that thought.

No, Shmi wouldn’t have been a target. She’d been very careful not to let her name be listed as a voting member of the RRM committee. Because she technically wasn’t. Ruwee might have been a secondary objective if the goal had been to harm Padmé. Or any of the other committee members could have been. Master Zapalo had a sister there, and he’d voiced concerns about the new budget. How it might hamper further exploration and settlement of the moons by slowing the needed research. If family were harmed as well…

The problem was that the more Leia thought about the attack, the more unclear it became who might be the target. Or possibly, the more clear it became that everyone had been an excellent target in one way or another.

The people of Naboo might have smaller gaps between some of their classes, but the government in particular was run by a close knit community of family and old friends. Padmé’s coronation had been significant for that reason. Not that she had no connections, but no one would have said they were the right ones. Not for being Queen.

Damn Palpatine. He must have known that.

“Is something the matter?” Joff Kareen hadn’t been happy to see Leia and seemed more than happy to see she might be going, but he could read situations as well as any dubious entrepreneur could. His frowned deepened the more he studied her face. “I haven’t had a report of any accidents in the mine.”

Which was where Leia was supposed to be while he was supposedly helping trainees (she suspected he was actually checking his books, but…). “Not in the mine. In Theed. I need to return to the planet.”

His blanch was an interesting response and part of Leia’s mind registered it while the other part was figuring out how she was going to convince her pilot to let her take over without incapacitating him.

She wasn’t Luke, but she could fly better than that slug.

“I haven’t heard anything from the planet,” Joff had fallen into step beside her and was checking for messages, sending a few of his own. “Has the senator been harmed?”

He sounded certain and worried. Leia filed that away too, wishing he wasn’t distracting her. Should she threaten Myleen or try and bribe him? How much cash did Leia have on her anyway? “The message I received was short. I don’t have confirmation on which parties were involved, just the time and the location. But I do need to be there.”

It was too much of an ingrained reflex to not throw Joff into the nearest wall when he grabbed her arm, leveraging him in a way that he had not been prepared for and keeping him there. But when he’d taken a moment to be surprised, he surprised her by saying, “She was our queen too. We disagree with the restrictions that she’s suggesting, but we wouldn’t hurt her. You know that, don’t you?”

Leverage. Leia was being used as leverage, as a witness. Was she being conned or-

No.

No, his expression was one of fear. He leaked surprise and reluctance, and he sure as hell didn’t want her going over his books, not before he’d thoroughly cooked and cleaned them. But he didn’t want Padmé dead.

His people however…

“I’m sure the guard will look into it,” Leia said, easing back and letting him get his feet under him again. “My concern right now is getting back to the planet.”

“Take my ship.” He seemed almost as shocked that he’d offered as she was. But he persisted. “It’s a newer class than yours, one that’s still technically in testing and development. She’ll get you there faster, and she’s easier to maneuver in city traffic.”

Meaning it was a small enough ship to be allowed into city traffic, meaning not the clunky transport Leia had come in, and not one she would have to leave at the outskirt docks and catch another transport from.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

And she did. But it didn’t mean she was going to go easy on him when she did get her hands on his books.

She hadn’t been studying the Trade Federation for the last months for nothing.

“My pilot will meet you in hangar three,” he told her, and Leia sighed as she turned. But that wasn’t fair. Joff was an efficient person. He’d probably hired someone who could actually fly.

* * *

The blackness of space was speckled with stars. Stars that didn’t blur together nearly enough for how fast they were going. Leia watched, taking the time to breathe and try not to panic. It would do no good to panic. The ship would go only as fast as the ship would go, the pilot did know what she was doing. Leia’s comms would tell her if anyone was trying to reach her with news…

There was a white blue sheen reflecting off of Threepio and Leia tried to see if she could spot Luke in it. He wasn’t consistent with the surfaces he appeared on, or when, but she’d seen him a few more times since that night, always with a smile, maybe with a wink or a nod.

Just for a moment, and then he was gone again.

She hadn’t dreamed of him since that first time. But she knew she could again. She just needed to be not busy and with so much else to think about.

Or something.

_“Oh definitely or something.”_

It was the faintest echo of an echo. But in the cold and dark of space, when Leia was finally taking a moment to just be, she heard it.

It was definitely him. The brat.

“We’re approaching atmo,” the pilot said, flipping switches and easing back into their seat. Leia shuffled a bit and let her head fall back, going limp rather than bracing for the transition. She found it easier on her ears during reentry.

And she wanted to hear her brother again.

_“Could’ve fooled me.”_

It was still so distant, but this time she saw him too, as the ship arced and a sliver of sunlight caught the view port. He was smiling, but there was a tightness to his eyes. Mild, not panicking. Something _had_ happened. Something not good, but not unspeakably bad either.

Not something he had to baby her by showing up for, hopefully.

_“I promised.”_

His mouth didn’t move, but the words were a little more clear this time, as if seeing him had brought him a bit closer.

He had promised. Promised he wouldn’t leave her again. And that made her wonder just where exactly he was when she couldn’t see him.

But that was a mystery she would have to unravel later, Leia realized as the angle of their descent sharpened. Right now, she needed to give her attention here.


	32. Fishing

“You’re supposed to be on Ohma-D’un,” Padmé’s scathing comment would have carried more weight if she weren’t buried under a pile of blankets, cautiously balancing a steaming cup in her hands. There was also Shmi standing over the senator, hands propped on her hips.

Her no nonsense gaze didn’t ease when it found Leia though, only narrowed further.

Oh well.

“Threepio said there had been an incident. I had to come back.” Which was true, but it didn’t seem like either woman was thrilled by the excuse.

Shmi looked especially disappointed. “You were examining the mines to see if they had good refugee working conditions-“

“They don’t,” Leia said, and felt guilty even as she said it. “Not for the reasons that the council has suggested.” Some people just couldn’t believe spice miners weren’t always high on the stuff. Which was stupid. First, it had to be processed, and second _they worked in a mine_. Not that no one tried it, but they never managed for long. “The labor is too hard for at least half of them in the condition we are getting them, and we don’t have enough protective gear for species other than humans. Not to mention most of the moon is inhabited by Gungans and wildlife that they imported. Aquatic and semiaquatic based diseases are a huge problem in the mines already, along with other parasitically transmitted disease. And the medical staff is only used to-“

“Humans,” Shmi was almost vibrating with frustration in the Force. For all of the changes that had come to Naboo in the last decade, the lack of diversity in the population was a hold out. The Refugees were helping to tip the balance, but there were limits.

Shmi sighed and looked down at Padmé, who looked guilty but didn’t say anything. It _was_ a problem, but it wasn’t one she’d ever seen a need to solve and the senator was smarter than making excuses.

Leia didn’t say anything either, but she did take a moment to remember the human biased Empire and found herself unsurprised if disappointed. It had to start somewhere.

“We can work on getting a medical droid that’s programmed cross species,” Padmé said after a moment. “If we have even one, we can get a small test group approved to start working. It may not be the offload point we hoped it would, but that doesn’t mean we can’t use it.”

Which was all well and good, but, “And of course you’ll be doing this from the safety of where, exactly?”

It had been a rough few weeks between the two of them, but Leia didn’t let the sudden spike of anger from Padmé disturb her. She wished things had mellowed out, but without anyone finding the shooter and Padmé insisting on keeping Leia on a short leash, the tensions just persisted.

Her trip to Ohma-D’un was supposed to have been a treat of sorts. For good behavior.

As if she needed one.

“They followed us here,” Padmé spoke softly and Leia slid closer, taking a seat next to the senator and trying to ignore the growing anxiety. “We made a bet on my people’s lives.”

“And we lost,” was left unsaid, but Leia could read it in Padmé’s eyes. “How many casualties?”

“Six dead,” Shmi said, and Leia nearly choked. She hadn’t expected any collateral damage. She should have known better. “Two in the initial blast, four more under falling debris, one of those when he came to help get others out.”

Bad, but it could have been worse. Still, “Anyone we know?”

There was a brief glance to Padmé before Shmi said, “All of them. At least, I knew the ones from the committee. None of the council or the senator’s party were killed.” A pause. “And Ruwee was injured.”

Which explained why Padmé was still on site when her handmaidens had probably tried to drag her from the scene. “You’re acting as bait.”

“We know they want me,” Padmé said, but it sounded more like desperation than certainty. “If they come after me again, right now, there’s enough people watching we should be able to catch them. Violence isn’t a standard form of political protest here, so we know it has to be-“

“We don’t,” Leia corrected gently. Although it was a _reasonable_ assumption. Just not a certain one. “The refugees come from other systems and could bring any number of behaviors or prejudices with them,” Shmi and Padmé both looked ready to jump down her throat for that, “and they make very convenient scapegoats for anyone who’s been wanting to try it. Not to mention bringing them here hasn’t been universally accepted.”

“But the dissent is small,” Shmi protested. “And quiet. Certainly rude, but not- They wouldn’t attack their own people over it.”

No, probably not. “But we also proposed the program to the Loyalist Committee. And anyone there who doesn’t like it has good reason to try and see it fail now, while it’s mostly just on Naboo and can be easily stopped. Has anyone reached out to Shea? To see if they’ve heard of something similar on Herdessa in the last few days?”

Shmi offered to make that call, letting Leia take over watching Padmé. Who got very agitated when Leia shuffled to get right next to her. They bickered over the relative safety of the move, but Leia won when she pointed out if Padmé was worried about safety she would have already allowed herself to be moved to another location.

It wouldn’t have been terribly surprising if Padmé had said she just didn’t want to be trapped in another lockdown. Leia really understood that feeling.

Arm around the senator’s shoulders, Leia surveyed the damage. Three statues had been targeted, all ones of Gungans (the real target, or a misdirect?), if she remembered correctly. They seemed more disintegrated than exploded, the majority of the debris not quite reaching the seared black edges of the blast zone.

Leia frowned.

She was intimately familiar with explosives. Being kept from the front lines of most major battles (for stupid, paltry, _political_ reasons) meant she’d instead been assigned to a lot of saboteur missions instead. She knew the difference between equipment to short computing systems, punch holes in durasteel walls, and shatter armaments and bases.

To say nothing of the destructive capacity of variously sized shots from hand blasters to cruisers (and karking moon sized space stations).

This… this was deliberate and contained. Deliberately contained.

And Padmé hadn’t been killed by it.

Which, while a relief, was also very concerning.

The scorch marks gave a vague impression of where people had been standing, but a few gentle questions to Padmé weren’t enough to come to any conclusions. The senator couldn’t even remember if the explosions had been simultaneous or in succession. Leia would have to see if there was a security feed so that she could get a layout and determine what had happened.

Was that technically the palace guard’s job? Yes. Was that going to stop Leia?

Absolutely not.

“Do you think this was about the Gungans?” Padmé’s questions felt like a distraction and Leia only shook her head. There _had_ been objections to the peace following the invasion, but most of the citizens had been relieved to have access to the Gungans’ subterranean waterways. It made moving goods across planet much faster. The rich and the lawless had always had connections, of course, but that prosperity spread during Padmé’s reign and helped mitigate some of the damage done by the invasion.

Not to mention that peaceful relations with the Gungans meant access to more territory and more opportunities to harvest the plasma that was Naboo’s main export.

And that was _before_ a large number of Gungans had settled Ohma-D’un, which had brought its own benefits, including the related technology discoveries that had improved spacecraft and environmental control system.

No, it was not the Gungans, but that would certainly be a piece that was explored. Most likely at the Chancellor’s (quiet but insistent) request. Why just kill a target when you could sow dissent and uproot lives and traditions?

That was a much easier question to answer than Padmé’s quiet, “Do you think more people would have died if I were on Coruscant?”

“You wouldn’t have felt less guilty even if it had been fewer,” Leia said, intimately familiar with this particular pain. “It doesn’t matter how many people die or how few. When you realize you’re the reason even one life was lost, that doesn’t leave you.”

It had changed her. Every single decision she made. And it wasn’t Alderaan being destroyed that had done it. Her years as princess had been marked by more than one life lost in her defense.

It was one thing that had made the rebellion so much easier. They were so finicky about her being the surviving Alderaanian princess, especially when they had been pushing for her to help with recruiting. But most of the people she had lost in the Alliance had died for the cause, not for _her_.

It was part of what had made Vader’s torture of Han so devastating. She knew he was being sacrificed in her place. And then he’d had to go and be all noble about it.

The bastard.

Hells and star fire, she still loved him for it.

At least Padmé had taken Leia’s words to heart. “You’re right. And it doesn’t make me feel less guilty now, to think some of them have been spared.”

Serious reflection was deteriorating into moping. “We should go and see Ruwee. If he isn’t awake enough to be worried about you, Jobal will be.”

“My mother will understand,” Padmé said, and Leia snorted. “Alright, she’ll be upset. But if we can lure out our target-“

“If they haven’t come, they’re not going to. Not today at least. And we’d free up a lot more people for cleanup and investigation if they didn’t have to worry about covering you.”

By the time Shmi met up with them, Leia had almost loaded Padmé onto Joff’s ship and was more than happy for the distraction of Shmi’s report. Nothing had happened on Herdessa so far, but Shmi had passed on as many details as she could and Shea would be on the lookout for any incidents.

“So it was directed at us,” Padmé sighed as she collapsed into a seat. “And probably not about the refugee movement.”

“I don’t know,” Leia hedged, vacillating on the issue. “I’m not convinced any of this is a simple one or the other motivation. The build up of refugees in general is related to the growing tensions across the galaxy. Anyone who is taking advantage of that, so they could justify a full scale army even, would be able to use both to obscure the other.”

Which was not what Padmé or Shmi wanted to hear. And it didn’t get them any closer to figuring out who the shooter had been, or if they were related to this newest incident.

But the ship was docking and Padmé was being escorted to her father by a small contingent of guards who wanted no distractions, so the conversation was finished.

For now.

* * *

Ruwee was sleeping, but it was not because his injuries were particularly severe. He had some burns, all carefully treated and likely to fully heal in the next two to three days. Not too much smoke or dust inhalation, but he was a bit older and there was concern over how much he had been shocked by the incident.

His wife wasn’t doing any better on that, and Leia could see that the doctors wanted to have her lie down as well.

But as long as her hand remained stubbornly entwined with her husband’s it was an unlikely outcome.

Leia watched from outside the room, keeping an ear tuned to the security comms and the regular updates the guards were getting. They tried to be quiet, but there wasn’t really much else to listen to. And Leia’d had practice listening in on conversations at Imperial galas and banquets.

An empty hall was practically a joke.

She was surprised to see Shmi returning. Her grandmother had spoken briefly to Jobal before stepping in to make sure accurate information was reaching the RRM, and the refugees. Especially the ones that had just arrived three days ago. No one needed to be overwhelmed with rumors that the organization that had just moved them between systems had lost its top officials. It was an important task and while Shmi was an efficient delegator, there was no way she was finished yet.

“What’s wrong?”

Unlike the guards, Shmi did know how to pitch her voice so that it did not carry in an empty hall. Scary skill, that. “Padmé is receiving a call, but Dormé is being evasive about who it is from. She doesn’t want to make the caller wait, but says Padmé will need to take it in private.”

“She didn’t give _any_ other information?” That wasn’t like Dormé.

“She said something about a fish? That Padmé would remember?”

Well, that didn’t help Leia, but Padmé’s whispered, “Mina,” was a good sign when Leia slipped into the room to pass the message on. Padmé kissed both her mother and her father’s cheek before ducking out, checking with Leia to make sure they could set up a secure line.

It wasn’t ideal, but Leia’d had to make do with much worse in the past. And hopefully the short notice on this message meant that no one had had time to inform Palpatine or any of his spies.

“Senator Bonteri,” the warmth in Padme’s voice spoke volumes of her respect for this stranger. Leia tried to place if she’d ever seen the woman in the senate and was concerned when nothing in her memory stirred.

She also didn’t know the name from her father, which was even more odd. He’d always told her, at least in whispers, of the friends he’d had in the Old Republic. But if Mina Bonteri wasn’t a Republic senator…

Oh dear.

“ _Padmé_ ,” the older woman was warmth and love and respect and it showed, even through the holocall. “ _I’m glad that you’re alright. I’ve been hearing frightening stories out here._ ”

“Have you?” Padmé was trying for a light tone, but something like suspicion crept through. “I didn’t realize you’d been keeping track of me.”

Senator Bonteri rolled her eyes, her expression shifting to just shy of annoyed. “ _We have been keeping an eye on the Republic senate, you know. And you in particular. Since you need so much watching._ ”

It could have been offensive, but the tone showed only concern, and something in Padmé relaxed. “I didn’t think we’d end up on opposing sides. I don’t want to lose you, Mina.”

“ _My people come first, Padmé, just like yours do for you. Ondera wasn’t made to be a Republic wellspring that they could wring slowly dry while we try and pretend there isn’t a jungle full of monsters just outside our walls. We need help, not just empty promises._ ”

“I know. Believe me, I know,” Padmé rubbed her forehead, and gestured for Leia to come into view. “Full disclosure, I don’t know if in keeping tabs on things you’ve heard about Leia-“

“ _Count Dooku mentioned her when he spoke of you. It’s a pleasure to meet you_ ,” Senator Bonteri addressed Leia with a smile, but her eyes were assessing. Leia matched the expression, though she hoped her eyes were giving less away.

“Thank you. I didn’t realize I’d received any sort of official mention in the Confederacy’s reports.” And more disturbing that the mysterious Count Dooku had been the one mentioning. There was something about him, something important that Leia had forgotten.

“ _Your work has impressed no small number of our members. And Senator Darsana speaks highly of you_.”

The bottom of her stomach fell out and Leia prayed her expression stayed neutral. “I’m honored. I don’t think I’ve heard him speak highly of many people.” If any. And she hoped the conversation had been a casual one, not official.

She didn’t want to lose him yet.

“Why did Count Dooku mention Leia? He isn’t invested in the Senate’s work, is he? I thought his objections to the Republic were centered on the Jedi.” Padmé was very good about asking questions that filled in gaps for Leia.

Senator Bonteri hesitated. “ _It’s true that he left the Jedi Order, but his concerns have always been with the greater systematic corruption in the Republic._ ”

“They can do that?” Leia asked, flabbergasted. “Jedi can just… leave?”

“ _It’s rare_ ,” Senator Bonteri said, “ _but it does happen. Usually for philosophical reasons, like the Count’s._ ”

Leave. Jedi could just _leave the Order_ if they didn’t want to be there. If they didn’t agree with the Jedi’s way of life or standards. If they, oh, wanted to raise a child or, or…

What the _hell_ had Vader been thinking?

And what was this “usually” nonsense? Did it happen often, or not? And if the philosophical differences were so great that Dooku had formed his own government to counter the Republic, should Senator Bonteri be treating them so casually?

“He could have petitioned for a seat on the Jedi Council,” Padmé said, “instead of leaving the Order and the Republic. Or left the Order and taken Serenno’s senate seat. As Count, he would have had that right.”

More to the point, he would have had the power. A seat in the Senate wasn’t a guarantee by itself, but the Counts of Serenno had vast wealth and deep pockets of power throughout the galaxy. To say nothing of the power Dooku could wield through the Force. Especially if he were willing to use it unscrupulously.

That thought tugged in an uncomfortable way and Leia felt she might have found part of her answer.

Philosophical disagreements.

Right.

Well, maybe working in the Senate where a bunch of Jedi were constantly wandering the halls might have put a damper on some of the Count’s plans.

Lovely.

“ _You know what the Senate is like_ ,” Senator Bonteri wasn’t inflexible, but her gaze was hard. “ _You and your people have experienced it first hand._ ”

“Which is why I’m working so hard to represent our ideals _in the Senate_. Just because it’s come to a fight doesn’t mean it’s come to a war!”

“ _The Confederacy of Independent Systems isn’t looking for a fight,_ ” Senator Bonteri looked worried now. “ _Or a war. We’ve established our own constitution and our members have joined us freely. And left the Republic freely, if they were members of that body. We’d be willing to negotiate with the Republic on trade matters, but we will not,_ ” her whole body stiffened, “ _be accepting the standard contracts offered by the Trade Federation or Banking Clans or Commerce Guild._ ”

It was a moment before Padmé could answer. “I’m sorry Mina. It’s just… been a rough day.”

“ _The Count said he was worried,_ ” Senator Bonteri was all solicitation now. “ _He said there were disturbances in the balance of the Force._ ”

And the woman clearly had no idea what that meant, not really, but something about her saying it made Padmé even more stiff. “He said he was worried about me? Or about the Republic?”

“ _You,_ ” Padmé’s friend was trying to be soothing, but while Padmé’s muscles were relaxing, her tension was seeping into the room. “ _He knows we were good friends, that I was one of your mentors. He’s concerned for you and Senator Organa._ ”

That was a threat.

Not from Senator Bonteri, Leia thought. But Count Dooku picking out the names of the two most important people standing against the Military Creation Act. A very deliberate choice on his part.

And what a convenient excuse, to be able to say the Force said it.

Leia didn’t know that it was a lie. Not for sure. But her uneasiness left it as a strong possibility.

“He’s been in frequent contact with you?” Padmé asked, not responding to the Count’s supposed concern directly.

Senator Bonteri nodded. “ _He’s in contact with all of us. It’s a small voting body, Padmé. It’s so much easier to speak to everyone and negotiate. The Outer Rim desperately needs this_.”

Which was an easy thing to say given that Ondera was actually Inner Rim. But the wildness of the planet had always made its reputation sharp edged. How nice it probably felt, Leia thought, to have the attention of a man as powerful and smooth as a once Jedi.

How heady and disarming.

How convenient.

Someday, Leia would outgrow her innate suspicion of everything and everyone. But it was not going to be tonight.

Padmé didn’t admit what had happened to her father, but did tell her friend to listen for news of dissent from Naboo, and thanked Senator Bonteri for her well wishes.

“ _If there’s anything we can do, Padmé, let me know. We may be in different governments, but we’re still friends. My people are willing to help your people._ ”

It wasn’t fair of Leia to assume that was a lure, or a subtle threat, trying to pull Naboo out of the Republic. But she hadn’t survived this long by being complacent. And if Padmé’s mood by the end of the call was any indication, Leia was going to have to be vigilant for both of them this time.


	33. As Our Dreams

It was two weeks before Ruwee was released from the hospital, less because of his injuries and more because of concern over the lingering threat. Like with the shooting, no one stepped forward to claim credit for the garden attack.

Leia had given up on sleep.

Instead, she was working full time in the Refugee Relief Movement offices, helping cover for Padmé’s father and doing her part to make sure the project expansion was ready for its new trial phases.

“ _You’re just wearing yourself out._ ”

It was… incredibly annoying how her brother could be silent for so long, not bothering to talk to her, and then just show up whenever he felt like it and start being a nag.

Then again, if dreaming was where she heard him clearest, it probably wasn’t the best sign that he was now always around.

“Someone has to do this,” Leia grumbled, making sure no one else in the room thought she was doing more than swear at her work. “And I don’t see you-“

The words caught in her throat and Leia had to swallow when nothing she did brought them out. She didn’t see him, not often. Even when she could hear him. She knew Luke was there, in an intangible way. But she couldn’t see him and sometimes…

Sometimes _she_ thought she was crazy.

“ _I love you_ ,” the whisper wasn’t in her ears or exactly in her mind. It was a thread that vibrated in her soul, sang in her heart, songs she’d forgotten she knew how to sing. Cut and dragged around her spirit like sand carried by a desert wind. A relief and a warning.

Well, she may not be ready to go to sleep, but sleep should probably happen at this point.

It only took a minute to save her documents and pack her things. She stopped to talk to Master Zapalo’s sister, Klara, carefully not focusing on the fine sliver scar that ran from the center of the woman’s forehead, clipping the edge of her brow and the corner of her eye and scraping the top of her cheekbone.

Not noticing the three times Klara reached to touch it and stopped midway. “Will you need anything else for tomorrow?”

“No. I’m still working on a way to present the species specific data that doesn’t make it too obvious we don’t have a large enough pool to be statistically valuable while making it clear that they shouldn’t base their efforts on our results. Especially not in education. Naboo citizens almost exclusively speak Basic.”

“And many of the children brought here speak mostly the language of their native planet,” Klara agreed, shaking her head. “Your mother and Threepio have been indispensable.”

Ignoring Shmi’s misclassification, and the variety of dialects that Leia herself had at least recognized as she had met refugees, she said, “Hopefully we will find a better method for teaching Basic to those whose native tongue is a complete grammatical and tonal mismatch.”

There had been some serious problems with a few groups in particular.

“A problem for another day,” Klara suggested, offering Leia a tentative smile. “We’ll see you here tomorrow?”

“As always. Try and get some sleep tonight.”

She ignored the way Klara’s lip trembled, her hands tightened, how every muscle contracted to _not_ touch her face, the almost palpable fear and frustration that seeped into the Force…

Almost without thinking Leia reached out, pressing her thumb to Klara’s forehead and closing her eyes for a moment, breathing and reaching for peace. Peace and a blessing.

“ _Sweet rest._ ”

She said it using words Han had taught her, had whispered when he had been there to try and ease her own dreams away from haunting nightmares of pain and death. Felt, as her breath carried the words and the calm she’d tried to gather, and they lifted something around Klara, who was blinking back tears when Leia opened her eyes.

“I- thank you,” Klara whispered, dabbing at tiny drops. “Maybe- Maybe tonight will be better.”

Dreams of thunder and fire. Leia knew how hard it was to escape from that, even once you’d gotten used to it.

“Good plan.” The words weren’t cocky, they stumbled too much for that. But Leia did manage a solid smile as she turned to leave.

Nodding to the staring staffers in the room, Leia slipped out, tapped a blinking Shmi on the shoulder as Leia walked past Shmi’s desk, and waited at the front door for her grandmother to join her.

Really, even if she couldn’t sleep, she should have left hours ago. Shea had her data and Syndulla could wait and Shmi needed sleep and could probably actually get it.

They let Threepio fly them home. He made anxious noises every time the speeder thunked or wheezed, but didn’t doze off on Leia’s shoulder or black out for two straight minutes between the government and the residential districts. He wasn’t the best pilot, but tonight it was definitely safer for him to be navigating them through Theed.

Stumbling and swearing, Shmi and Leia made their way into the house. Stairs weren’t an option. They both collapsed on the couch. Shmi’s breathing was almost snores in seconds, but Leia was awake long enough to feel Threepio arrange a blanket over them with an almost whispered, “Pleasant dreams.”

* * *

“We have to go back.”

Padmé’s voice didn’t shake, but Leia could feel the tension, the fear, ripple through the throne room carried by those words. Shmi had tensed and Leia couldn’t stop herself from biting at her lip. Dormé and Versé exchanged a glance, Sabé’s hand had found Padmé shoulder, and Cordé had relaxed into a posture so perfectly mirrored to Padmé’s it was a worry unto itself.

Eirtaé was staring resolutely ahead, hands not clenched but fingers twitching.

Leia didn’t blame her. Not one bit.

The queen was calm as she asked, “And the threats?”

Growing up, Leia’s dream had always been to be as good a queen as her mother. But if she couldn’t be Breha, Leia would be perfectly happy being Queen Jamillia instead. The woman was a stream of calm, calamity just washing off her and drifting away. She wanted nothing to do with it.

“We’re going to have to be careful,” Padmé answered, eyes flicking to Cordé and away so quickly Leia almost missed it. “I’ll want to be flying understaffed.”

“Absolutely not!” Captain Typho cut in. “My lady, that isn’t reasonable-“

“Reducing casualties,” Leia cut him off, willing to carry a bit of his ire for Padmé’s sake. “There’s almost no possibility of coming out of this unscathed. We need every advantage we can get. A smaller team is more compact, requires fewer guards, and is more mobile.”

“And makes the senator a greater target,” he snapped.

Leia shrugged, catching Padmé’s half smile. “Only if we do our job poorly. Are you saying you can’t provide adequate coverage?”

She really ought to stop baiting these people, but it was so hard sometimes. Their sense of impending doom was just too much to carry in these situations. It was jarring to Leia, to have such a fundamentally different scale of what complete disaster looked like (even discounting losing the _Falcon_ and Alderaan).

Not that she _wanted_ Padmé harmed. Not that she was okay with the complete lack of trail that these crimes had left. Not that she wasn’t planning on solving that particular problem.

But death was ever present in her world. You couldn’t stop making the decision to _act_ just because something was dangerous. Otherwise you’d never steal Death Star plans. Or rescue a friend from Hutts. Or hold a fledgling government together in the teeth of well-armed, well-disciplined opposition.

“We’ll need to come up with a new plan,” Captain Typho was emphatic. “There are too many people in the senate who are familiar with our old ones.”

Governor Bibble sputtered. “Surely none of our friends have turned against us!”

It was a minor miracle that Leia didn’t snort, but she did twitch and that caught Shmi’s attention. Not ideal.

“Our friends are as trustworthy as ever,” Padmé said, her tone soothing. “But our patterns are more predictable. While not everyone knows the details of my guard, there are more than a few who know I sometimes have a body double. Not who. I’ve never revealed as much. But,” she didn’t grimace, but there was a tightness in her face, “the Chancellor has mentioned, in company, that my handmaidens are highly trained in combat and espionage. It wouldn’t take a huge leap to realize that when so many of them are my age and size…”

Unease rose again and there were awkward glances around the room. Advisor Brandes tittered, “A new plan does seem to be in order. I assume, for safety reasons, we don’t need to be involved?”

The nervous energy had Leia on edge, but she did agree with Advisor Brandes. Having made the decision to go, the fewer people knew what their plans were, the better.

Especially, “I don’t think we need to inform Coruscant of any changes,” Leia suggested the moment the door to Padme’s office had slid shut and only her handmaidens, head of security, and Shmi were inside. “They’re already aware that our shuttle is going to have an escort for additional security. Leaving things looking the same on the outside will make it harder to notice we’ve made adjustments within.”

And would prevent news from reaching a certain madman.

“I’d already thought of that,” Padmé admitted, settling into her chair. Her posture was still a fairly close mirror to the queen and as she looked out the window Leia wondered what her friend was thinking. Her feelings didn’t reveal much, held too close for Leia to really parse them. “I want to leave Theed without cover and land with a double active.”

Frowning, Captain Typho said, “That’s a fairly obvious move Mi’lady. And it doesn’t actually increase your security.”

Leia only partially agreed, but she tried to keep quiet as Cordé and Dormé suggested steps that could be taken to contact Coruscant mid-flight, to further layer the deception. Captain Typho agreed to all of them, but insisted they needed at least two more guards, if not four, to act as cover.

“They tried to shoot you and there was an explosion. Even wearing armored gowns isn’t going to be enough if they try similar tactics.”

And what Leia wouldn’t give to have a chance to take a look at some of those. She’d always been impressed that Padmé could wear clothing that was so heavy. It had been thrilling to know some of that weight was subtle and practical.

“I’m not putting more people than I need to in the line of fire,” Padmé made each word a clipped decree. “And I’m not showing up looking scared. Bail’s at the head of our part of the committee, but some of the votes that we need to secure rely on _me_ since he gave me this project. If I’m cowering behind guards, that undermines the entire message we’re presenting.”

Long past exasperated, Captain Typho growled, “Maybe it should.”

For a moment no one in the room moved. Then Padmé was up and out of her chair, restrained by Eirtaé, who was giving the captain a quelling look. But it was Shmi that said, “The message that Senator Amidala is trying to send to the Senate is to meet action for action, to balance reprisal for reprisal. What is needed is not for the wealthy and the wise to stand behind poor men who die, but for the Republic to take responsibility for its own fate. Danger may be present, but it will not diminish by refusing to face it.”

Her mouth wasn’t hanging open, but Leia knew her eyes were wide as she stared at her grandmother, who was now blushing and looking at the floor. Shmi, who _hated_ the Republic in a cold and distant way that remembered only what it had taken, who would have dismantled it if she could.

Alright, Leia didn’t _know_ that Shmi would have done that. But sometimes, when Shmi spoke, Leia did wonder.

Shmi was a Skywalker. They did nothing halfway.

“I don’t want to start a conflict,” Padmé added, looking a little awed. “But I do want to point out that refusing to escalate the situation isn’t a sign of weakness. Isn’t foolhardy. I don’t think the efforts against me represent the feelings of a large population. This feels like a very direct target.”

“With collateral damage for a smokescreen,” Leia felt the need to add. “The source may be narrow, but they’re willing to fire scatter shots.”

Padmé nodded. “We’ve had more suggestions from some members of the Council that these are actions from the mining guild.” Utter nonsense. “But I believe we’re looking for someone much more subtle and much more dangerous.”

Dooku. Padmé hadn’t asked Leia to look into him, but she knew how to work Artoo around, and he had been helping Dormé and Versé on that investigation. A few personal requests and small adventures were enough to get Artoo to tell Leia the whole tale, such as it was.

Count Dooku was charismatic, convivial, passionate, and making promises to his senate to build a government that would never see corruption.

And at one point his apprentice had been Qui-Gon Jinn.

It had taken Leia a while to put the pieces together, but once she had the link between Jinn and Kenobi, it had been a short leap to Anakin Skywalker, who Leia knew, _knew_ , was going to end up in the middle of this even if he hadn’t been dragged there yet.

And before you even got there, Dooku had left the Jedi Order. For _philosophical differences_. After his once apprentice had been _murdered_. By a Sith. Who the Jedi apparently were not informing people about.

Yeah, if that wasn’t the beginning of a nice revenge plot, Leia didn’t know what fit.

It was a little harder to pin down why Dooku would want to start a new government. Unless he was aware that the Sith were already ingrained in the current Senate. But no, there was no way that this new Confederacy was being led and guided by a former Jedi out of the generosity and kindness of his heart.

Especially since he hadn’t renounced his title on Serenno, but reclaimed it. Leveraged it.

The rest of the galaxy might be blind, but Leia wasn’t stupid.

And it looked like Padmé wasn’t either. Thank goodness.

Although, “If we’re going for subtle, instead of four guards, you could take me.”

That earned a lot of dirty looks. Actually, yup, she’d managed to get everyone in the room. Lovely. But it was Padmé who said. “Over my dead body.”

“That would be what we are trying to avoid,” Leia stressed before anyone else could object. “And, like it or not, I’m trained enough to be a bodyguard. And people will expect me to be with you, but not to be your cover.”

She wouldn’t suggest taking Padmé’s place. Surface similarities aside, Leia might be good at mimicry on occasion, but no one was better at imitating Padmé than Cordé. No point in wasting that.

“Since when are you trained as a bodyguard?” Captain Typho objected.

Leia was within an inch of answering when she realized, well, _bodyguard_ might not be the most accurate. But, “I didn’t say I trained as a bodyguard. I said I was trained enough to be one. I’m a good shot, I’m observant, and I know Coruscant well enough to be aware of its particular dangers.”

“No.”

Trying not to roll her eyes, Leia looked back to Padmé who looked ready to throw things. “I can-“

“How many times,” Padmé demanded, “do I have to tell you that you are _not_ allowed to risk your life in place of mine?”

Which wasn’t fair. Anyone else in the room would be allowed. “Why not? Cordé does.”

“Cordé has been with me for years,” Padmé shot back. “We’ve trained to take risks together. In ways that _mitigate_ them for _both_ of us. We have plans and counter-plans and hand signals, and eyebrow wiggles, and can practically read each others minds. Cordé risks her life _with_ me, not instead of me.”

Well, fine then. But, “I’m not asking to take Cordé’s spot. I’m asking to come with you. Because it’s a good idea and I can help.”

“We’d love to believe you,” Dormé was speaking now, and it was scary how gentle she was. “But we don’t have any proof you’d be up to the task.”

What? _What?_ **_What?_** “Since when-“

“Leia,” even Eirtaé was trying to be gentle, and that, that- nothing could be worse. “During the shooting. You froze.”

“I-“

I saved her, Leia wanted to scream. I felt it in the Force and saved Padmé and don’t you tell me-

Only she had. She had tackled Padmé and then…

Then the world had slowed around her and everything was on top of her and she couldn’t think and she couldn’t breathe and she may have thrown them away from that first shot, but it was Kenobi that had gotten them out of the line of fire, and Dormé and Eirtaé that had stood guard, and Leia had just sat there and shivered and hid and-

And they had no reason to believe she wouldn’t do that again.

Hell, thinking about now, calm and away from it, Leia didn’t know that she wouldn’t freeze again. Didn’t know why she had in the first place.

It hadn’t happened before. Only when-

Vader.

Not the first time she had confronted him, she’d been snarky and vicious and stubborn then. But on Bespin?

It was like she’d been trying to move through sludge. Every moment after those doors opened and behind them was darkness and a mask and that terrible, terrible (how did he live like that for so long?), terrible breathing.

Han had gotten a whole handful of shots off before Leia had been ready to act.

But Vader hadn’t been there at the shooting. Hell, even Anakin hadn’t shown up until after things were under control.

So how could she just freeze?

“I won’t,” died on her tongue before she could force it out. Her mouth moved, but words stayed locked inside, chained to a place she could see but couldn’t explain. Couldn’t admit was real.

“I’m sure you are capable of taking care of yourself.” Eirtaé was wretched at comforting people. “But we need this to work.”

Cordé had buried her face in her hands and when she met Leia’s eyes there was humor and sympathy in them. It was Padmé who added, “I need you here more than I need you on Coruscant. Your work with the RRM is going to be critical, however this vote falls out.”

Her soul lurching as she bit back a protest, Leia gripped her temper with years of practice and… accepted the inevitable.

She had failed. There was something she had meant to do, a place she had meant to be, and she had failed to prove that she should be there.

(Again. Again and again, she wasn’t enough, never enough…)

“ _Strength now._ ” Shmi’s hand was on Leia’s arm, offering support, her voice a gentle whisper in Leia’s mind. “ _I’m with you._ ”

“I understand,” Leia managed to say. And then (so much harder), “In that case, we should probably leave you to your plans.”

Safety in ignorance, what she couldn’t know she couldn’t give away (why they’d never told her, told her about her biological relations), and above all else Padmé had to be safe.

It wasn’t a fight, she wasn’t on a battlefield. But it felt like one, and if she just shut it all away, put it someplace where it couldn’t hurt her, she’d pick it up later and let it shatter her to pieces.

She’d already turned and was five steps to the door when Padmé called, “Leia!”

Turn, look, no accusation in the eyes, they were right, “Yes.”

Not good enough. Padmé hesitated before saying, “We could still use your help.”

“Planning for something I won’t be a part of makes me a liability. Besides,” she would _not_ look at Eirtaé, “if something goes wrong, if there is a leak, then you know it wasn’t us.”

Shmi was here too, standing with her. Leia wasn’t alone, there was someone at her back. Still, the look of anguish on Padmé’s face hurt. “We know you would never-“

“Do we?” Captain Typho was a threat. His whole aura was sharp and pointed at Leia. At Shmi. And she wouldn’t let him hurt Shmi. “Seems like these attacks didn’t start happening until after they showed up.”

“That isn’t fair,” and it was Eirtaé that came to their defense. A surprise. “Things have been escalating in the Senate that have nothing to do with Leia. And she has no Separatist contacts.”

“That we know of,” the captain objected, and while Leia was angry she saw his point.

“We’ll leave,” she said, looping her arm through Shmi’s. Solidarity. Strength. “If the captain needs proof, he can work on finding some.”

She knew her tone was cold, as sharp as the mistrust he was sending towards her. Sharper. She cut through it, made him wince. Good. He should know, he didn’t threaten her. She wouldn’t abide it.

“By your leave, Senator,” Leia offered a half bow, still holding Shmi’s arm. Shmi made her own farewells and let Leia lead her out, saying nothing as they wandered the halls.

Leia didn’t look at the windows as she walked. The sun was past its zenith, dragging reflections of light everywhere. She knew if she looked she would see him, following their steps, worried as he watched her.

But there. When he hadn’t been there before. Shmi on her right, her brother on her left, Leia at least knew that she didn’t walk alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned this when I first posted, but my knowledge of the Star Wars EU is dubious at best and if you recognize things from it, it's either a complete accident, or I know just barely enough about whatever I've mentioned to borrow the loose outlines and then make changes for the purpose of this fic. I appreciate the details that people share or corrections they make. I like knowing what my readers expect and new things I learn may (but probably won't) impact the fic. If you notice I go off the rails a lot, well, you've been warned. Again.
> 
> On a completely different note, it's always fun to read your guesses about what things are going on and what may happen next. It helps me keep up my own enthusiasm. Thank you all for taking your time to read this. I'm glad you're enjoying it.


	34. Taste of Ashes

Making food was hard, but right now that helped. It gave Leia something to focus on so she could ignore the turmoil just under her skin, inexplicable in its intensity, jealous and enraged at being excluded.

Which was stupid. She’d practically kicked herself out.

“You want to stir it,” Shmi murmured from where she was cutting vegetables. “Not beat it.”

Well, so much for containing her mood. “Yes, Grandmother.”

There was a spark of pleasure from Shmi as Leia said the word, as there always was, and it was a relief and a balm to her soul. A touch of the anger dissipated, leaving humiliation in its wake.

She’d thrown a tantrum. In the middle of Padmé’s office. Like a spoiled child, all because she hadn’t been allowed to chase danger. Never mind that Padmé and the handmaidens were right. Ignore that if she kept being in the wrong place at the wrong time Captain Typho’s accusations might become justified as suspicions.

She’d whined like a petty princess because she’d wanted an adventure and she couldn’t have it.

“ _It’s more than that_.” Luke’s voice was only the barest brush against her senses, and she was almost petulant enough to ignore it. She _knew_ herself better than he did.

Except.

Except that Luke did understand her. Sometimes because they were similar, and others because they were different. Opposites even. He made himself understand her because he loved her, and he forgave her because he saw her as worthy of that love.

Even when she doubted herself.

Well, if she needed someone to bounce ideas off of, “I should have just kept my mouth shut, shouldn’t I?”

Sliding the vegetables into the pot, Shmi flicked a half glance at Leia before saying, “Maybe.” Well, there it wa- “Or maybe not.” A hum. “I hadn’t realized that Captain Typho felt so strongly about our presence.”

Leia hadn’t either, and that bothered her. She should be better than this. Not being in the Empire was making her slip. The stakes were just as high, higher here. She couldn’t afford a misstep. “Maybe he’s right. At least… maybe being here puts Padmé in more danger.”

“How?”

Since discussing time travel was out of the question, “We both are sensitive to the Force. It responds to us. Things… happen.”

But it didn’t feel right as she thought about it. Padmé was surrounded by people that manipulated the Force. Even if she wasn’t especially close to any of the Jedi (and Leia wasn’t sure where exactly to put Obi-Wan on that scale), the Chancellor was a Sith and very powerful.

So even if Leia had just left Padmé alone…

“I cannot think of a single thing,” Shmi said solemnly, “that you or I have done to bring Padmé misfortune, by our presence or our acts. She is brave and capable and dangerous. And more than happy to be a target without any input from us.”

Fair enough. Bail would have put Padmé in charge of fighting the Military Creation Act even if Leia hadn’t arrived. It wasn’t something Leia’s father had spoken of a few times, that Padmé had been deeply involved, even in that other life.

And she was making plenty of people mad with her position on it, regardless of Leia’s existence.

Still, “You’re right. But I still should have kept my mouth shut.”

“Do you think it is wrong to want to come to her defense?”

No. Leia had been raised with at least as strong a sense of responsibility as Padmé. Alderaan was gone, it had been a long time since she’d functionally carried the full weight and burden of a princess. But putting other people’s lives before her own…

She’d been doing that on instinct her whole life.

“What I want doesn’t matter.”

The words carried a cadence that was so flat is was almost numb. She rarely said them out loud, but in her mind? They circled over and over and over. For every fallen ally, every lost battle, every dream of Alderaan.

Of Luke and Chewie and Han.

What she wanted was often impossible. What was more important was what she had.

And what she didn’t.

And she didn’t have Padmé’s trust. Or the handmaidens’. Definitely not Captain Typho’s.

“Leia…” Shmi wiped her hands, watching Leia and being watched in return. The frown wasn’t just on her mouth or in her eyes. Something about it had settled into her spirit. “Where do you go when you are lost?”

Home.

At least, that was where she had used to go. To her parent’s room to hide under their blankets, even when she was too old to need such a thing. To the _Falcon_ , and to Han and Luke and Chewie directly when it wasn’t enough to just be on the ship.

To Lando, those last few days before she’d come here, trying to find in him the peace that she had known.

To Shmi.

“You,” she whispered, and Shmi’s eyes softened.

She stepped forward, taking Leia’s hands, bringing each one to her lips and then pressing them to her forehead. There was a whisper of words Leia recognized but didn’t know, some sort of blessing. And then Shmi spoke. “I will always be here for you. You may come to me whenever you need. But there are things you carry that you haven’t shared. That you need to face. And to be reminded of, because they are part of who you are. Where do you go when that is what you have lost?”

_“There is a place you can put your anger. I can show you.”_

The memory of those words made her shiver, almost wrench. He’d said he’d be gone, gone and gone and finally for forever. But she still remembered, still couldn’t forget.

But Shmi’s hands held hers and Leia knew what she had to do.

“I should probably talk to my brother,” she admitted in a whisper, and Shmi smiled. Sweet and sad.

“Do we need to send Threepio for more flowers?”

Leia shook her head, moving to stir their food. “No, I should be okay without them. Now that I know where to go.”

But she’d take time this evening to calm down before she went to bed. Keep her own council while they ate, maybe watch- well, it was too late for watching the sunset, but she could stare up at the stars. Find Alderaan, remember it was still there. That would bring peace.

The last spices had just been added when the door chimed. Leia froze, tasting spoon halfway to her mouth.

At this time of night. After what had happened.

“Shmi, don’t,” Leia hissed, but her grandmother just leveled a Look and headed straight for the door.

In spite of her best efforts, Leia couldn’t miss the hiss of it sliding open, or the soft murmur of Padmé’s voice (of course it was Padmé herself, she couldn’t have just sent a handmaiden to handle this?), or Shmi’s chuckle that sounded like it was heading back this way. “We just finished making dinner. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

Since she was avoiding looking behind her, Leia couldn’t shoot Shmi a return look, so she kept her eyes focused on the pot. One more minute of simmering, and if Padmé was going to eat it then Leia couldn’t actually let it burn.

Although it might chase Padmé off if Leia did. Especially if she set off the alarms.

So tempting.

“I’m sorry to intrude,” Padmé had to be directing her comments to Shmi because Leia hadn’t even turned around to say hello yet. How could Padmé know for sure that Leia knew Padmé was there?

Alright, maybe she was being a _little_ petty.

“It’s no trouble,” Shmi seemed to be willing to put up with the tantrum for now. “It’s always a pleasure to share a meal. And we know you haven’t eaten yet.”

Well, that was one way to force Leia into the conversation.

But the food was also done and it was time to start serving, and it was only polite to serve guests first, and Leia would never disgrace Shmi by being ungracious under her grandmother’s roof (well, not more ungracious). “How much would you like?”

“However much you’re having is fine.”

An excellent, polished, diplomatic reply for a situation where she couldn’t be sure enough food had been made for three people. So professional.

Padmé was clearly searching Leia’s face for answers, but Leia had trained to survive the Imperial Senate. She had tricked (alright, mostly on accident) the Emperor himself and Darth Vader into not realizing who she really was. Padmé was good, but she wasn’t going to read Leia if Leia didn’t want her to.

Even Luke couldn’t when she’d really shut him out.

Leia placed Padmé’s bowl and got drinks while Shmi served for the two of them. Threepio was around, offering assistance, but Leia knew Shmi preferred to serve guests herself. He was invited to join them at the table though, and several times throughout the meal had Padmé giggling over the tales he told of small children swarming him while he and Shmi made their visits, trying to outsmart the shiny man with all the bad words they knew.

Apparently, they knew quite a lot. But (and this made Leia giggle) not more than Threepio.

It wasn’t exactly a fight for Padmé to get Shmi’s permission to help with the cleanup, but there was some wrangling over what needed doing, and if Padmé really needed to do so much.

“Please,” had finally won over, along with, “I always help my family when I’m at home.”

Padmé was really, _really_ good with her words. Leia was a little jealous.

And that didn’t exactly help when Padmé paused in the middle of drying the bowls to say, “I’m sorry about today. I wasn’t trying to make you feel like you had to leave. I meant it when I said we need your help.”

When Shmi didn’t answer for them, Leia braced herself and said, “I know. But Captain Typho was serious too. And it did make more sense for us to leave if we weren’t going to be involved. It was senate business at that point, not ours.”

It hurt, and Leia couldn’t be sure all the pain she was feeling was just her own. But she had put in so much effort on Coruscant and she’d thought it had been enough to seal her place working with Padmé. In the senate, not just helping Shmi back at home.

“I know you’re working with the RRM, but unlike Shmi, you are still on our payroll.” Padmé’s voice was carefully even. “And even if you weren’t- Leia I know you froze after the shooting, but you didn’t at the banquet. Or any number of times before that. You catch things, notice little details that could be the difference between us successfully tricking someone and us not getting away. And it was you who noticed the sniper in the first place.”

Well, at least someone had acknowledged it. But, “I did freeze under fire.”

And dammit, why, _why_ had she done it?

“That doesn’t mean we don’t need you.”

Leia heard the words, but noticed a catch as Padmé said them. “Are you asking me to come with you? Because you have a plan?”

“No,” Padmé admitted, putting the last of the bowls away. “But I was hoping I could run what we have by you and see what you think.”

Dishes were clean, leftover food was put away, Shmi was doing a final pass over the tabletop. Leia leaned against the counters and made herself look Padmé in the eyes. “I’m going to say no. And I’m going to do it because Captain Typho doesn’t know you’re here.”

She didn’t flinch, but Leia had been around Padmé enough know to know what that particular set of the chin with four quick blinks meant. She’d been caught, and she knew it. “He was against it when I suggested we get your opinion.”

“For a good reason.”

“You’re _not_ going to betray us. It’s never even occurred to you, you aren’t a plant-“

“And he’s still right,” Leia sighed, rubbing her face. “Look, I’m pretty sure no one’s bugged our apartment. I’m pretty thorough and I regularly check.” And wasn’t that a great look on both Shmi and Padmé’s faces. Maybe she should have mentioned that to her grandmother before now. “But this isn’t a secure space and you shouldn’t be sharing official plans in it.”

“So come to the office,” Padmé shifted, settling in for a fight.

Leia hesitated, and then decided not to give it to her. As tempting as it was. “No. We’re not going and you’re not telling us.” When Padmé opened her mouth, Leia added, “Captain Typho is head of your security for a reason. I’ll admit, I sometimes wish he were a bit more imaginative, but if you act against him, purposefully and willfully, Shmi and I will _have_ to be investigated if something goes wrong. And even if they don’t find anything, it could cost me my job.”

“I decide who’s on my staff,” Padmé protested.

“But the Queen can veto your choices, if not directly than by threatening to remove you from your seat for poor judgement. And you’re right, you are important to this upcoming vote. And any others related to it. There’s no point in sabotaging both of our careers and the anti-military movement just so I don’t get my feelings hurt.”

It ached to say the words, haunted her. By stepping back she was making a deliberate choice. If something went wrong she wouldn’t be there. Would never know if it would have been different if she’d come to help.

If she did go, everything could still go wrong. And there was no way to know which would be worse in advance.

Alderaan. Alderaan and choices, and every choice she had made to be a spy, a damn good one, up to that point. Every choice to antagonize Tarkin (and there was every evidence things would have been _worse_ if she hadn’t pushed him), the decision to accept the mission to Scarif, lying to Darth Vader, sending Artoo off with the plans, letting the Imperials follow them back to Yavin.

Fighters had died. The Larses had died. Alderaan had died. Part of Leia had died with it.

And if she had to go back and do it all again?

Well, she’d certainly _try_ and change it. She was responsible like that. But she knew better than to assume that doing the right thing always got you what you wanted. Or the best outcomes.

Or that you could guess what someone evil would use to hurt you, if given the chance.

She watched Padmé consider her arguments and cross her arms. “I hate it when you make a good point.”

“Don’t lie, that’s the only reason you like me.”

Everything around Padmé softened. “Not the only reason. But it’s a good one.” A deep breath. “Are you sure?”

No, dammit, she was never sure. And she wasn’t like Luke who could not only use the Force but had an uncanny knack to walking down paths with unnaturally low casualties (minus himself, of course). Any reaching or feeling Leia did only extended so far, and while her general sense of everything to do with this trip and this vote was ominous, it wasn’t like she had a clear vision of what could be done to change that.

It was almost tempting to ask the Jedi. Almost.

But even Luke’s visions hadn’t been perfect, and, again, you never _knew_ what someone evil could pull out of nowhere to hurt you.

She’d been ready to be tortured again on Bespin. She hadn’t been ready for what he’d done to Han.

Leia said, “Since you don’t have permission to ask my opinion, I’m going to say no.”

“That scared of Captain Typho?” Padmé was trying to be teasing, or maybe goading, but Leia wasn’t nearly amateur enough to fall for that one.

“I don’t want him coming after Shmi because he decides we are a threat,” Leia admitted. “It’s not fair to her. Naboo is supposed to be safe.”

Annnd Anakin would probably throw a fit if he found out Padmé’s guards had arrested his mother. Which, while possibly interesting was not a path that Leia wanted to send him down if she could avoid it. Never mind what it would do to Shmi, and how little Leia’s grandmother deserved that.

Leia taking risks was fine. But she wasn’t threatening the security and home of her family ever again if she could avoid it.

And she could. No matter how much it galled.

“Point,” Padmé was staring out the window again, tension building between her eyebrows. “Do you think Count Dooku did it?”

Tricky territory, but Padmé did keep her word, so probably not something they had discussed as part of her plans. At least, not as a group. With Cordé? “I do.”

It was a simple answer, and Padmé looked surprised Leia had given it. “Really? I mean, we don’t really have evidence, and he was a Jedi.”

“The most damning things against him,” Leia said firmly. “How much do you think Jedi get away with?”

And wasn’t that a complicated face. But Padmé did look at Shmi, and then past her, remembering… Well, probably remembering her own trip to Tatooine. “More than they should,” came out in a slow, heavy confession.

“I don’t have _proof_ either,” Leia admitted. “But I am concerned that he seems to be keeping an eye on you. And he’d have to be doing that through the Senate. And if no one you know in the Republic has mentioned, even privately, him asking about you, that doesn’t leave a lot of good options for where he’s getting his information.”

“The Force?” Padmé suggested.

“If that was how it worked,” Leia snorted, “we’d already have the shooter. The Jedi are handling that.”

That earned an awkward shift. “Actually, mostly they’re not. The Chancellor asked them to hand it over to the local security forces and his personal guards since,” she rolled her eyes, “it may have been directed at him and it clearly wasn’t a foe the Jedi needed to concern themselves with.”

So that was how he’d been getting away with it. Leia’d wondered. Still, “An attack on him?” Really?

“Well,” Padmé’s smile was thin and her eyes were cold, “I am his protege.”

If he didn’t already have a planet sized list of reasons, Leia would have killed him just for that. “I’ll bet he thinks he’s really funny.”

That… had been the wrong reaction. Padmé thought he was corrupt, not evil and just frowned, before shrugging it off. “He’s insisting that I shouldn’t come back for the vote. That I can send someone in my place. Jar Jar’s willing, but-“

But no one really took the Gungan seriously. It was hard, as Leia knew personally. He was, in so many ways, a walking disaster. But when he learned things he knew them. And he was very loyal to Padmé and her ideals. As far as Leia could tell, he was also impossible to corrupt. Fairly easy to trick, but not corrupt.

Having him there would be better than nothing, but even if he could stand in for the Senator in a pinch, Padmé was right that her actual presence meant the most.

And she’d been promising to come back.

“Well, he’s wrong. And you know it. And you have a plan.”

“We do,” Padmé agreed. “And it should work.”

If Leia knew nothing else about Cordé, she knew the woman was more than competent to keep Padmé safe. “It will. And you’ll be able to do your job. I promise.”

“Can you also promise not to get into any trouble while I’m gone?”

Well, that one would be harder, but, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“And you’ll be taking Artoo,” Shmi pointed out. “So there will be a limit to how much she can get herself into trouble.”

Half a breath away from panic, Leia was shocked when Padmé just rolled her eyes. “I cannot believe she is the _only one_ who’s figured out how to bribe him besides me. He has to be the worst junkie for trouble this side of the galaxy.”

Oh, she already knew. Damn it, Leia’d forgotten to tell Artoo not to mention his errands to Padmé. Well, and he probably wouldn’t have promised. He was pretty loyal too. “You should have met my brother. He was worse.”

The sharp snap of shock from the other women resonated with her own as Leia realized what she had just said. “That’s right,” Padmé was trying very, very hard to be casual. “You’ve mentioned him. The Jedi?”

“Yeah.” Leia wished she could just bury herself under something. She had not meant to open this conversation. “He, uh, well. Jedi, you know how they are.”

Hopefully. Leia certainly didn’t know if all of them were as bad as Luke had been. Although, if the only ones Padmé knew well were Anakin and Kenobi, that was probably close enough to the truth to slide by.

“I can only imagine the kind of trouble Artoo would find if he was regularly with Jedi,” Padmé, bless her, seemed to know the conversation needed a sharp redirect.

A pity Leia couldn’t make that observation really work as one. When she faltered, Shmi said, “Then we’d best keep him away from Anakin. They’ve already gotten themselves into more than enough trouble.”

Right. The space battle over Naboo. How did this conversation just keep getting worse?

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Padmé’s cheer seemed a little less forced as she let them lead her out to her speeder. “It’s not like Anakin needs an astromech.”

It could have been just Luke, but Leia was pretty sure there were a whole lot of ghosts right now that were laughing at her.


	35. Shades of Memory

“That could have gone better.”

Given how well it did go, Leia was a little surprised at Shmi’s comment. “Really?”

“She didn’t promise to come back.”

Oh. Oh that was… “She made me promise,” Leia couldn’t decide if she was embarrassed or proud, enraged or entertained, “but she didn’t promise that she would stay out of trouble.”

“She can’t,” Shmi led them back inside, uneasy gaze towards the stars. “Where she is going is by its very nature dangerous. She can’t promise not to take risks. Or to come back.”

Like Shmi and Anakin’s first parting, Leia realized. He may, _may_ , have been going somewhere safe. But there was no promise his mother would still be there when he returned.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Leia made herself say out loud. “We chose not to be involved.” The arch look Shmi gave her made Leia correct that to, “I decided. And you didn’t say one way or another… Are you? Doing something?”

Shmi’s gaze settled on Threepio. “I would prefer if she took someone with her. Someone _I_ trust. To keep her safe.”

And Threepio was pretty much an important member of the senatorial staff. His presence could also disguise Leia not being there, make certain parties move with more caution. “Would you mind?” Leia asked the droid.

“Of course not,” Threepio said, before adding, “That is, I’d be happy to, I’m sure. What is it I’m doing? Getting the flowers?”

“No,” Leia said, smiling because really, this was just like him. “Shmi and I were hoping you could go with Padmé and the handmaidens. Keep an eye on things and make sure she doesn’t get into trouble.”

“And let us know if she needs help,” Shmi added. “We don’t want her to feel like she’s alone.”

“Of course I’d be happy to travel with the senator,” Threepio said. “Only, do you think she is bringing Artoo? I’m not sure, if we’re trying to stay out of trouble, that he’s the best choice. I’m only a droid, you know. I can’t keep an eye on both of them.”

Already calling Cordé, Leia said, “Do what Padmé tells you to. They have a plan for keeping everyone safe and if you can help- Hello.”

“ _Please tell me she didn’t see you._ ” Cordé sounded resigned.

“Sorry,” Leia said. “But I did tell her not to go leaking state secrets in public houses.”

A snort. “ _You would be worried about that aspect of it._ ”

“We wanted to make you an offer. Shmi and I.”

She had Cordé’s full attention. “ _Oh?_ ”

“Threepio.”

It took a few minutes for Cordé to consider it. “ _And you’re not asking Padmé because?_ ”

“She just left and she’s flying. And if I ask you and you say no we can pretend this never happened and she doesn’t have to know about it.”

“ _And here I thought you knew her._ ”

Well, Padmé would want to know. Might later find out. But they could at least keep it from her until she was back on Coruscant and unable to reverse Cordé’s order. “Do you want him or not?”

“ _Do._ ” No hesitation. “ _He’ll have to go through the usual pre-flight scans for malware and incendiaries. And we have a few days to prepare. We can use him without worrying Typho, at least too much. And he’s got the subtleties of Outer Rim mannerisms practically hardwired. We can’t afford to not take him. Especially since-_ “

Since Leia wouldn’t be there. And there would be people bound to notice, she realized. People like Senator Darsana who had stopped attending committee meetings when Leia hadn’t been brought with Padmé on her short trips back to the Senate. The lone voice that had suggested not everyone in the Naboo delegation was completely anti-military, suddenly absent and silent.

It wouldn’t fix everything, but yes, Leia did need to have Threepio go. “If I prepare some messages and have you pre-screen them, can I have him deliver them? I’d like to at least say good luck to Shea. And thank you.”

“ _Good idea,_ ” Cordé agreed. “ _Get your messages ready and we’ll have Eirtaé, the Queen, and Minister Tane review them. That should be enough for the good captain._ ”

But not invasive enough that Leia couldn’t send a personal message. Especially if she crafted it correctly. “Thank you. I’ll have those to you first thing tomorrow morning.” At Shmi’s cough, Leia corrected that to, “Well, early tomorrow. If I can. Maybe midday at the latest.”

“ _Get some sleep_ ,” was Cordé’s cheerful answer. “ _We’re here for a few more days, there’s no rush_.”

Well, that would depend on how well Leia could craft her message for Senator Darsana, and how subtle she could be. How much she could convey with written words as well as Threepio’s presentation. Maybe Threepio was familiar with Anselmian script and they had marks for more tonal or gestured aspects of their language.

Hopefully.

After a bit of chatting with Shmi, Cordé hung up. Leia could feel plans working in circles in her mind, trying to pinpoint exactly what she wanted to say, when Shmi’s hands framed her face, waiting for Leia to resurface. “Yes?”

“It is time for sleep,” Shmi said. “What must be said and what must be written can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, you need rest. And to find yourself.”

“I have something to do,” Leia protested. “That always helps-“

“It is a distraction,” Shmi gave no ground. “You are avoiding what you feel to think. How can you reach out to your friends if you are not honest with yourself?”

Senator Darsana appreciated Leia’s frankness He might have a liquid temper, rising and falling with every push and pull of emotion, but he’d always met her honesty with honesty of his own. If she couldn’t be there, couldn’t gage his reactions to make sure she was conveying the right tone of respect… She needed to be completely honest. In any way that she could.

And she really shouldn’t be trying to mediate conflict third hand on this little sleep. “You’re right.”

Placing a kiss on Leia’s forehead, Shmi said, “You are a bright and hopeful star. Don’t stay lost in the darkness.”

* * *

Dreams were funny things. The sun was at its peak, the sky a painful shade of blue. Leia felt something that should have been a breeze but was more like the memory of one. And it was quiet. Normally in a meadow this peaceful Leia would have expected the chirping of birds or the buzz of insects. The sound of the wind that was moving the grass at the very least.

But in spite of the lovely scene, everything was silent. As if someone had stolen its voice.

“Not quite. But it’s not real, so you have to be really trying to hear it.”

This time she didn’t move right away. Leia took a moment to breathe, to settle before she turned to find her brother.

It sort of helped. She did throw herself at him again, burrowing up against his side until she was comfortable under his arm, her head half tucked under his chin. “Hi Luke.”

“Hey Leia.”

She didn’t remember waking last time. At least, she didn’t remember what had happened between turning into a sobbing mess and then waking suddenly, a mass of stiff muscles, locked bones, and skin that felt like it had been flayed. This time she would. “Do I owe you an apology?”

“For what? I mean,” she felt him smiling, “you never really give those out, so I’d be happy to have one, but- oof.”

She couldn’t elbow him from this angle, but she could throw a weak punch with her off hand into his gut. He seemed to get the picture. “I’m sorry.”

And now he was sad. “Not for that,” he whispered, his hand stroking her hair. “You don’t have to apologize for that Leia.”

“For letting you die?” For not being enough?

“Nothing would have stopped it.”

“If I had seen-“

“Leia, _I_ didn’t see it.”

“You never see when you hurt yourself.”

He stilled. “That’s not true.” She looked up, shocked. He’d never mentioned. “I had a… well what was sort of a vision. Before Bespin.”

“You saw Han and I,” Leia said. “You saw that we were hurt.”

“I did,” he agreed. “I saw that while I was training with Yoda. But there was another time, when I went off alone. He said the place was strong in the Dark side of the Force.”

And now it was Leia’s turn to be carefully still. “He sent you there _alone_.”

“No,” Luke was amused again, which was better than him being serious. Things were usually broken if he was being serious. “He told me not to go and I ignored him. He also told me to go unarmed, and I didn’t listen.”

Well that was just practical. “So what happened? Did the Dark side… get you?”

A half laugh. “That’s not really how it works. No, it showed me something. Something that was real, part of myself.” His hand covered hers. “It showed me Vader.”

Leia froze. Something about the meadow greyed, darkened. “You had a vision of Vader?”

“Not like my other ones,” Luke said. “Those are more like dreams, or flashes. You’ve seen them.”

“I don’t-“

“They aren’t always the future, Leia. I know you’ve seen things from the past. Like Qui-Gon dying.”

“That was the lightsaber.”

“It was an impression. Of a memory. It was a trigger, Leia. You being curious, being powerful, listening. You did the rest.”

“So… you wanted to see Vader?”

Luke shrugged. “I expected a fight. Yoda said there was evil there, darkness. Vader was the darkest thing I could think of in the whole galaxy. He stole my father, he hurt you, he killed people in the rebellion. He was dismissive of me and then tried to chase me into the ground. If a place was going to be evil, it made sense that Vader would be in it.”

“But?”

“The Force connects things. Even when we don’t know those connections exist. I fought Vader. Not the real one, a sort of phantom, I guess. Menacing and real to me, but when I beat him-“

“You beat him?” Of course he would have. Luke’s always believed he could be a proper Jedi and defeat Vader. Only her brother.

“I cut his head off.” Grim and serious again. “Like he did to Ben.” A sigh. “But when I saw inside… it was me.”

Still, frozen, unable to move for several heartbeats. “How the hell were you supposed to figure that out?”

“It wasn’t trying to tell me anything,” Luke laughed. “The Force _is_ , Leia. Everywhere and everything is bound by it. To it. And to other things through it. I went into a dark swamp pit looking for a fight, for an enemy, for evil. And the Force showed it to me, obeyed my will. Only in that desire was something I knew nothing about.” His fingers tightened over hers. “He was my father. And by trying to fight him, I was fighting against myself. To my own destruction.”

“He _was_ evil. You weren’t going to let him keep doing that, that…”

“I wanted to stop him,” Luke agreed. “But in the end, I wasn’t fighting him.”

“I know. The Emperor killed him.”

“No, Leia, you don’t know. You haven’t listened. I didn’t just forgive Vader, I _stopped fighting him_.”

And this time she heard it. Heard it and heard with it the truth. That Luke could have died. Killed by Vader, killed by the Emperor. Either of them. He’d given up the fight. Because he’d found something more important than that. More important to him. But, “Why?”

“Because the only thing I ever wanted, my whole life, was to have my father back. To believe he was still out there, somewhere. And one day, he was going to come for me. And maybe part of that dream had already died, but I couldn’t fight it, couldn’t kill it with my own two hands.”

“Well, he’d already taken care of that problem,” Leia grumbled, and Luke’s right hand twitched as he chuckled.

“I’m not saying what I did was right,” Luke told her, keeping her pulled against him. “I’m sure if I had died I’d have gotten an earful from you. Among other things.” Oh would he ever. “But it was my choice. And I had to live or die by the consequences.”

And he’d lived. Because, “He loved you.” Maybe not much, but, “It was enough.”

“He loves you too.”

“He’s _gone_.” Finally, finally nothing but her dreams could haunt her-

“I know. And I also know why. And so do you.”

She choked. “He wanted me to fix thi-“

“No Leia. He wanted you kept safe. So he sent you to the one place, the one person in the whole galaxy he knew would do it. The only way he knew how.”

Snorting, Leia said, “Tatooine isn’t safe.”

“No, but Grandmother is. And she could keep you safe on Tatooine. You could keep yourself safe there. We already know you can deal with Hutts.”

And maybe she was looking forward to killing Jabba again a little too much. “He did want me to fix things. He said so.”

“Did he?”

_“I’m sending you to someone safe. Probably the only one who can help you actually fix everything.”_

The words echoed in the wind, whispered across the grass and slid over her skin like a promise. “No. Not really.”

“What did he say?”

“You heard it,” Leia grumbled.

“Did you?”

“ _Yes_.”

A long-suffering sigh, a kiss on her head. “I love you Leia. You’re my sister and you’re amazing and I wish I could be half as strong as you are.” Before she could respond he added, “But you have got to meditate more.”

“The Jedi solution to every problem-“

“No,” Luke flicked her ear and she pinched his knee back, making him wince. “But part of how we deal with the Force. You’re using it now Leia, but if you’re not careful, it’ll start using you too. Meditating doesn’t solve problems. But it does give you space to think about them. You taught me that.”

Before he’d ever made it to Dagoba. Not that he’d listened to her, not really. But when he’d talked about struggling to clear his mind like Ben had told him, she’d tried to step him through what she knew. Minus the Force stuff. “So if the Force is my problem?”

“It’s not,” Luke almost seemed exasperated. Well, they couldn’t both be insufferable know-it-alls all the time. “At least, not how you mean it. If the Force is connections, then the more you use it…”

It took her a moment to realize he wanted her to fill in the blank, “The more things are connected to me,” Leia realized, mind stumbling back to that night on the stairs. When she’d been frozen, scared. Surrounded by dozens of helpless civilians… “The more I feel the Force, the more I feel them.”

“You always keep your head in a fight,” Luke said. “Mostly. But if you don’t train how to listen, and then how to tune it out-“

“I’ll keep freezing. When other people freeze.”

Or her shots would be off, or she would just be distracted. It could be thousands of things. It could be anger, she realized. It could be hate. She could get pulled in by any of it if she thought she was in danger and just reached out and didn’t have any boundaries in place.

“How do I fix it?” She had to face him now, this was too serious for her to be distracted by comfort. “How do I stop it?”

Luke looked thoughtful. “You know most of what Yoda and Ben told me. I think you can figure it out.”

Something clenched in her. “If this is about attachment…”

He poked her forehead and Leia grabbed his finger, scowling. “It is and it isn’t. I chose to be a Jedi. And I got to choose what that would mean, because there were no other Jedi to tell me no. At least, not and make it stick. Ben tried.”

“He wanted you to kill Vader.”

“He wanted me to kill my father,” Luke said. “And he wasn’t very sympathetic when I said I couldn’t.”

Leia could have done it. If the damn ghost had ever bothered to come and see her.

Men.

“The point is,” Luke continued, “I chose to be a Jedi. And to handle my problem the way I thought a Jedi should handle it. You’re Leia. You get to make a different choice. Whichever one you want.”

As long as she accepted the consequences.

And that was what this was really about, wasn’t it? That last night in her past, she’d cried because she’d found her resolve. Lando had said that they needed her, not because she was a Jedi but because she was herself. So while she’d wanted to scream and cry and rage into forever, she let herself weep, ready to buck up and just do it, and then…

_“Do whatever is necessary.”_

Jumped through time and space, _left_ them, and their government and all the work she’d tried to do and still needed to accomplish.

“ _And don’t look back.”_

And she hadn’t.

She’d landed in sand and storm, let Shmi help her put her feet under herself, and had moved forward. To a future she was determined to make better than her past.

And her brother was smiling now, and she could almost hear the sounds of birds and the wind felt a little more real, and…

Luke stood, pulled her to her feet. Stepped close, forehead to forehead, hands holding hers like she was fragile and precious. “The Force is always with you Leia. You have to decide what to do with it.”

“Alright,” she whispered, stray tears escaping. “But you have to always be with me too. You promised.”

“I know.”

He did. And he would be with her. And no matter what happened, everything would be alright.

She’d make sure of it.


	36. Wounds of Treachery

Waking up hadn’t been as painful this morning, but Leia’d still been stiff and uncomfortable until she had showered, and her skin still felt raw. Like every stray breezed was blowing just under the first layer.

“You’re jumpy.” Padmé was reviewing Leia’s notes, frowning at the one to Senator Darsana and glancing up at Leia every so often. “Is something wrong?”

“No more than usual,” Leia sighed, leaning against the wall and refusing to wince. Sitting wasn’t happening, but standing wasn’t that much more comfortable. Her feet hurt. “Why?”

“Because you’re jumpy,” Padmé didn’t roll her eyes, but it was a near thing. “Did you actually sleep last night?”

“Yes.” Sort of. “Didn’t Shmi tell you?”

Finger moving across the lines in front of her, Padmé said, “She claimed you were in bed for eight hours. While I’m sure that’s technically true, I have suspicions about what you were doing in there.”

“There’s only so many things you can do in a bed,” Leia objected.

That earned a smirk. “Depends on how creative you get.”

“Do I want to know?”

“I was twelve,” Padmé wasn’t blushing or even slightly embarrassed. “My friends and I were off planet for the first time as part of the Legislative Youth Program. They had our doors monitored pretty closely so we couldn’t sneak out and accidentally end up in the lower levels. But no one spends their first week on Coruscant able to sleep.”

Leia had, but then she had grown up in Aldera, not Theed. And she’d had people with her, people she knew would keep her safe.

And she’d always been pretty adaptable. “So what did your creative twelve year old selves get up to?”

“Mostly mischief,” Padmé admitted. “We had access to the net and several boards for politicians. Some of us figured out how to get into more. We shared gossip, boring stuff. The way people responded, it probably happened every year.”

“That’s it? You just proved my point.”

A lighthearted smile soothed things Leia hadn’t realized were broken. She _had_ been antagonizing people too much this week (month?). It was a good thing she’d finally gotten sleep. “I said that’s what _we_ got up to. Together. I didn’t say that was the only thing I did.”

Something about that look… “Please tell me you started a coup. Somewhere.”

Padmé laughed. “Not a coup. But I may have helped unseat a local judge from a mid-level district.” When Leia started choking on her giggles, Padmé added, “He was corrupt!”

“I know,” Leia said. “Believe, me I know.” More chuckles. “But yeah, it’s pretty creative to overthrow a local government from your bed.”

They spent a few more minutes bickering over semantics, Padmé adamant that she hadn’t overthrown the government just because she’d displaced one man. Leia didn’t have time to pin her down before Cordé and Queen Jamillia arrived, both amused at the tone and topic of conversation.

“It was good practice,” Queen Jamillia said thoughtfully, “for when you had to fight for your own people. Against men who were cruel and corrupt.”

From the face Padmé made, that comment had cemented Leia’s victory, but she didn’t gloat. Just waved as she left them to go over local matters that Padmé was to bring before the Senate.

Leia already knew what they were. Advisor Brandes was a dreadful gossip.

She walked along the halls, quiet enough that she could hear herself think. And what thoughts they were. She remembered, vaguely, coming here several months ago. How everything had felt big and bright and polished. A little foreign, a little frustrating.

Shmi had been afraid.

Now she was walking these halls on her own, or with her own friends, arguing with Council ministers and proposing budgets and legislation. It was a startling difference if Leia let herself think about it. Shmi had adapted very, very quickly.

Which shouldn’t have been a surprise. She’d traded hands many times as a slave. Her grounded, focused nature had to also be flexible. It was a matter of survival.

"Lost?"

The tone was earnest, but Leia knew Rani was teasing. As the guard approached Leia slowed, ignoring the subtle wave of hostile curiosity Rani carried. Captain Typho was being much more careful about letting Leia wander around unaccompanied. She should have seen his accusations coming.

Sloppy.

Still, he was willing to let her be watched by a potentially friendly party. "Just wandering. The gardens are bit… off-putting right now."

To say the least.

Rani considered that as they walked the halls, Leia occasionally waving at people she recognized or nodding. There was an air of tension in the building, the city really, that hadn't settled over the last few weeks. "Do you think we should be afraid?"

"No," Leia tasted the truth of the words as she spoke and wished they had been reassuring to her companion. "Not yet. One incident is reason for caution and action. Two is reason to hunt. More than that… then you should be worried. Especially if you don't have any hints of how it happened."

"The senator was targeted on Coruscant."

A casual observation, but it did mean they were up to two, if that was how you were counting.

Leia certainly was. "Which is why we're hunting."

"Senator Amidala says the hunt for the shooter has been taken from the Jedi. And we don't have the resources to look off planet here."

Which was almost as embarrassing as it was frightening. "Even after the invasion?"

Rani shrugged. "We've been rebuilding."

Which was fine. But that didn't mean you left your backdoor open for an enemy to just walk through _again_. "Well, you may need to redirect some of that effort. Because off planet is probably where you'll need to look. More likely off system," she added before Rani could make a comment about the miners on Ohma-D'un.

"You think so?"

"If they're after the senator? That would be my best guess. We'd hear more restlessness from the civilians if it were coming from here."

"The people love her here."

Leia bit back words until she could use an even tone. "Yes. Which is why we would be hearing about any danger if there were murmurs floating around. Someone would have noticed and reported it, especially with there already being attempts on her life."

"Unless they were being silenced," Rani suggested. And there was more than a hint of suspicion now, and that surprised Leia. What the hell had Typho been saying about her?

"In which case," she reached for calm, calm that was a defense and a weapon when she walked among enemies, everything contained and tight, wrapped like safety around her, "you would have bodies or missing persons reports. I'm not asking," she added when Rani's silence became sullen. "The work I'm doing here isn't the chase."

"The Captain says you volunteered to do a solo hunt on Coruscant."

Yeah, definitely an accusation. Well, "Because I'm very good at finding things and people that are trying to be hidden," Leia said calmly. "I've had practice."

"Where?"

So many places. "Mostly Mid and Outer Rim, but the underbelly of Coruscant is at least fifty percent refugees from those zones, living in squalor and surviving by introducing old habits. Have you ever been there? It not like the seedier parts of Theed, or some of the cities further out from here where there's still more agriculture than industry and they listen more to local noble lines than the central government. It's layers and layers of skyscrapers slowly descending into darkness. Roads that open up into chasms and pits where you can't always see the bottom. They have no daylight, they get no rain. Everything is piped down through old industry that wasn't pretty enough for the top dwellers anymore. And every year, the corruption grows higher, because why replace when you can just keep building up and painting over it?"

Why run a local government to solve problems when you want to corrupt the whole galaxy? Why not let the Jedi sit on a hive of death and despair, so wrapped up in their peace and their comfort that they couldn't feel that the very ground that they were built on was crumbling away, seeping into darkness and ash?

Why kill a man when you could sit back and watch him kill himself? Just take what he loved.

"You hate it." Rani sounded so surprised.

Leia stopped, met Rani's gaze full on. "It's a pattern. A pattern you use to break people, to exploit them, to beat them into submission. You don't fight them, you make them fight the world. You make them fight themselves. Yes, I hate it. I hate it with everything that I am. That's why I came here. To _fight_ it."

"Padmé wants to help people," and now Rani sounded uncertain.

"Which is why I'm helping her. The senator is a good person. We don't always agree on how things need to be done, but she wants to make the galaxy better. To stop people from being murdered and exploited. So yes, I volunteered to go on the hunt. The _first_ time she was threatened. Because she wants to fix things, not paint over them. And that makes her a target."

One of many, so many, and still not enough. And Leia's efforts would only get her so far. She needed a better network (not that Shmi wasn't already helping Leia with that one, even while they were stuck here) and she needed better allies, and she needed-

She needed Alderaan.

She was intimately familiar with their resources and their connections. She would be devastating if she could use them as leverage.

Unfortunately, to do that, she'd need to approach (Pa-) Senator Organa.

And right now, that was _not_ going to happen.

Something in Rani was easing. Her smile was more relaxed as they started walking again. "I think you underestimate the handmaidens. They've been with the Senator for years. Many of them were with her during the invasion. They're nothing to scoff at."

"Oh, I'm not scoffing. As far as a dedicated personal guard, they're pretty much the best."

"But you're still worried?"

Shoving her hands into her pockets, Leia looked up at the ceiling. Studied the stone arches and crests that supported tons and tons or architecture, that had for at least hundreds of years. "Someone has to be."

"Generally," Rani was sober now, following Leia's gaze, trying to guess what she was thinking, "that's the Guard's job. Or just Security's in general."

Leia couldn't help but smile. "I like worrying. It keeps me sane."

It was clear Rani didn't understand or share the sentiment, but Leia had won over another ally. One who would hopefully convince Captain Typho to stop acting like an idiot.

Even if it was to keep Padmé safe.

* * *

The hardest part of Padmé leaving two days later wasn't being excluded from the crew, or knowing that there was danger, or wondering how the vote would go.

No, the hardest part was that Leia wasn't allowed to be on the landing platform to say goodbye. For… security reasons.

Cordé and Eirtaé had overruled Typho's concern about letting Padmé visit Shmi and Leia the night before, sharing another meal and doing their formal farewells then. But he'd been adamant that he didn't want either of them near the ship before it took off.

Especially Leia.

Well, fine then.

" _You're not amused._ " She was on a call with Senator Organa and Senator Mothma, going over notes on things she'd been working on that weren't directly related to the MCA vote. Another sop Padmé had offered as a peace offering.

A rather bitter one, in Leia's opinion. "I don't think he's being unreasonably cautious," she admitted, biting back the desire to confide in Senator Organa even more (a habit as natural as breathing, even when for years he'd been dea-). "Padmé's been vacillating on how serious she thinks this is, at least when she talks about it. But she knows, and that's why she didn't fight the captain. Better to be safe than sorry."

" _Even if it means being offensive?_ " Damn, it was so hard to concentrate when he did things that were too familiar. He was testing her, and she knew only one way to respond.

"That depends on how much trust you have, and shared ideals. The senator knows even if I'm being implicated that I understand, under the circumstance, and can be patient."

" _How generous_." It was hard to tell if Senator Mothma's mouth was twitching towards amused or irritated. She'd always had excellent facial control. " _You will not be joining us then, this session?_ "

"We're not sure yet," Leia said, although in reality the answer was at some point she _would_ be going back to Coruscant, with Padmé's permission or without. There was too much that needed to be done. And… She needed an in with the Jedi. More than just casually knowing Master Kenobi, as convenient as that had been. "We'll have to see how things go with the vote and if my expertise will be of value, or if I'm better placed here."

She wasn't. Everyone knew it. Queen Jamillia had made several comments about it, in her own subtle way, when Captain Typho had explained that Leia would be remaining. She may have been focusing her research on trade routes and supplies (a not irrelevant topic with impending war on the horizon), but Leia's experience was broad and deep. And she had good political habits.

Most of the time.

" _Senator Darsana was asking after you_ ," Senator Organa said. And his expression was closed enough Leia had a hard time parsing it. " _He seemed disappointed that you weren't coming back._ "

"I asked Threepio to pass along a message," Leia answered, wishing she could get the meeting back on track. "I'm hoping they get there in time for him to receive it before the vote."

Who knew what would happen after. If Padmé and her contingent in the Loyalist Committee managed to stop the war efforts, there could be seriously bad blood between Naboo and many systems. And Leia knew, _knew_ , that any number were waiting for the results in order to decide if they were going to leave or not.

What the Republic implied would make a huge difference.

" _I'll see if I can reach out to him and let him know to expect a visit,_ " Senator Organa promised, and Leia was worried to see there was something of relief in his answer. " _He's been very busy these past weeks, and it might help to speed things along._ "

Or just open up the path. "Thank you. I would appreciate that." She hesitated. "Were there any messages you needed delivered here? I'd be happy to pass them along."

A stupid offer. He was only an associate to Padmé, and while respectful enough to know details of her culture wasn't friends with her government.

But, " _Actually, yes. If you could pass a message to Shmi Skywalker or Ruwee Naberrie_ ," and wasn't that an interesting order, " _I'd appreciate some additional details on the kinds of craft they have access to for moving refugees. We've already got a pretty robust system for handling refugees to Alderaan, but we have flight schools, pilots and ships that we can offer to any other systems, if they meet your standards._ "

Which would win Shmi over, Leia knew. And realized in that moment that she hadn't introduced them, had actively avoided it, because she wanted Shmi to think well of Bail Organa. Because Leia loved him and couldn't say it and didn't want Shmi to look at him and dismiss him as an idealist, passive Core-worlder.

"I'd be happy to pass that along. Should they reach out to you directly, or to one of your organizations?”

" _Me,_ " Senator Organa said firmly, which made Leia jealous and warm all at once. He was being protective again. Of people she loved. " _I know enough of what we have to offer to process the relevant information. And to make sure if we have what you need that they get in touch with the right people as quickly as possible._ " He hesitated and Leia tasted fear, even through the call. " _Whether or not the Senate approves the formation of an army, we need better connections between systems for moving people, especially in an emergency. I'd rather not delay helping with that_."

And as streamlined as many organizations were on Alderaan, it never hurt to have a little pressure coming from the top to move things along. "I'll make sure they know to reach out to you as soon as possible. Now, did you want to go over pirating rates on major versus minor hyperlanes? Or price variance on common trade goods in the last twelve years?”

The two senators exchanged a brief look before Senator Organa said, " _Both_."


	37. Where Our Scars

It was the middle of the night, the depths of darkness, when Leia woke, gasping for breath, drowning in a vision of fire.

Trying to calm her racing heart, she breathed, pushed on her face, forcing the tears to stay just under her lashes. Luke, Chewie, Han… She breathed and breathed and breathed and tried not to remember the exact details of the dream. The green toned light from the view port under heavy laser fire. The screech of Artoo skidding, his wheels jerked across the floor. The sound of blast after blast from the guns, and the more muted sounds of what had to be Han shouting, Han swearing.

The feel of heat and pressure as everything had exploded around her, too hot and loud to survive, too fake to actually take her life.

She couldn’t handle more tears, but it was so hard to forget if she wouldn’t open her eyes. She just kept seeing it, again and again.

“ _Leia, let it go_.”

The words were almost too quiet, the sentiment unwanted, the tone…

He knew, he understood. But she had to move on. She was needed here, now. “What’s wrong?”

“ _You're upset._ ”

Simple, quiet fact. Enough to bring him to her side. She could do this. She could face this.

“Leia?”

Shmi’s voice from outside the door. Leia made herself stand, cross the room, open up. Step into the waiting hug, let one, maybe two tears out. Just to clear the poison of the memory. Just so she could still breathe. “I wasn’t even there. I shouldn’t keep seeing it.”

There was a spike of fear, a moment of hesitation. “What do you see?”

“Them dying.” It ground out of her throat, hurt in every imaginable way. And why was Shmi afraid?

But she wasn’t anymore. Fear turned to sorrow, empathy. “I’m sorry. That must be… so hard.”

It was, but now there was a secret in front of her and Leia was willing to pursue anything else to avoid her own feelings. “You thought it was something else.”

This wasn’t like Shmi’s normal hesitations, waiting to get the right placement of words, or to make a point. It was actual fear and… maybe embarrassment? Humiliation? Closer to humiliation, Leia thought. “You don’t have to-“

“When Anakin was little, he would share dreams with me,” Shmi said, the words more rushed than Leia had ever heard from her grandmother. “Not always, but when he did… it was never the good ones.”

And beyond that, Leia had the feeling that there hadn’t been many good dreams to share. And the bad ones? Leia was sure, very, very sure, that they were like hers. Dreams of the past. Visions of what could not be undone.

For Shmi? “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“

“I worried you’d seen the same,” Shmi continued, more stable now. “You carry enough with your own burdens. I would not put mine on you.”

It was horrible to think about. To even begin to imagine. Shmi never, never spoke of the difficulties or indignities that she’d suffered being a slave. Not in anything more than broad strokes and generalities.

But Leia had spent time in a Hutt palace. In other seedy, undesirable places. They’d rescued slaves as part of the rebellion. She’d known about others from the work her father had done outside of Alderaan for years during the Empire. He’d tried to keep her away from it as much as she could, but… Leia had always wanted to be a spy. Or a solider. Or someone who was fighting, not just being royalty. She’d made herself learn things even before she’d been allowed formal training.

So Leia didn’t _know_ , but she knew. So many horrible possibilities.

Worse, because Anakin Skywalker had been a slave until he was nine years old. And even if that was less than half his life at this point, it was plenty of time for him to personally experience plenty of terrible things.

If he’d lived the dreams of his mother- Leia couldn’t imagine what he’d found or how it might have hurt him.

And she _wasn’t_ going to ask.

“My nightmares are mine,” Leia promised. “I have plenty of them, I don’t plan on borrowing any others.”

Not that it had been voluntary. Was it Anakin’s power that had pulled him in, or his mother’s mind reaching out? It wasn’t like Leia had any formal training, just her own efforts with meditating and feeling things around her.

Although, “You said when he was little. Did it stop before he left?”

Shmi nodded as she led them downstairs and started making tea. “Once I realized it was happening I- Well, I suppose I prayed. To the desert. To our gods. To whoever was listening. That even if I had to dream them every night, that his pain at least would stop. I don’t remember anything changing. Just… days went by and then weeks. He didn’t wake up with me, wasn’t crying, or speaking of things he shouldn’t have known.”

Accepting a cup, Leia thought about that. “Prayer?”

Not skeptical. Just curious.

“Not unlike your meditation,” Shmi said. “Our people- We have our songs, our stories. Our memories. We know there is more in the world than just the power that makes some masters. I had my son by those powers, and I knew he was gifted with more of them than I could imagine.”

She stopped talking and Leia was grateful. She needed to know, but couldn’t ask. It wasn’t possible. “You… made him?”

Sliding into her own seat at the table, Shmi shook her head. “Not… constructed. He is my son. I carried him and gave birth. But he has no biological father. Not as any sentient would understand it.”

Holy hells, their family tree was so messed up. “You…”

“Wanted a child,” Shmi said simply. “I had lost some. Several. To various circumstances. I wanted another, one strong enough to live and breathe in the world that I endured. The desert gave me Anakin.” She paused, hands wrapped tightly around her cup. “And when he was gone, in the storm, it gave me you.”

Oh. Oh. _Oh._

Oh no.

This was.

No.

Where was Han? She needed good Corellian smuggler swears and they’d all gone missing.

Son of a- _Force_.

Taking a deep breath, Leia asked, “Just Anakin?”

Shmi nodded as she sipped. “He was the only one I carried. That didn’t have a father,” she amended. “My last.”

Which didn’t make sense, except- Right. Cliegg. No children from her marriage.

But, “Owen?”

A warm smile, but also grief. “My joy these last several years. A very sweet boy. Very willing, to have me as his second mother.” Her jaw clenched as she looked out the window. “A mother does not leave her children. Not as easily as I left mine. I cannot claim him.”

“I _know_ he would have strong objections to that,” Leia said. Her memories of those weeks on Tatooine only covered a brief time, but it was painfully clear that Owen had loved his stepmother. Had honored her and looked up to her and wanted her in his life as much as his father or Beru. “We should at least go back to see his children.”

And now it was Leia’s turn to feel guilty at how much that startled her grandmother. “We have obligations here. And- I might be able to afford the trip, once or twice. My pay is generous. But we’d have no way to let them know we’re coming or see if we’re welcome, or-“

“Shmi,” Leia needed to remember how different their views on space travel were, “I’m a pilot. Not a great one, but a good one. I’m sure Padmé would let us borrow a ship. I know her family has access to them. Or we could book passage, and we make plenty to go more than just twice. And your work with the RRM is expanding. It’s not just possible, it’s likely you’ll travel near or to Tatooine as part of your work. And,” Leia leaned back, taking a sip of her tea, “the Larses let me stay when I showed up out of nowhere and they had no idea who I was. They’ll be happy to see you. Especially if you tell them you got to see Anakin.”

It took a moment for Shmi to answer, “They might want me to stay.”

Ah, right. That. Um.

“And I couldn’t,” Shmi continued, rushing again. “I- I would love to. To see them regularly. To be part of their lives. But I can’t stay there. Not anymore.” A deep breath, and now her words were slow, measured. “It isn’t home. Not anymore.”

Not the deserts that had been her mother and father, when blood relations had been a dream. Not the suns that had scorched, but had also lit the path of every step she had taken, showing with violent, stark clarity the world that was in front of her. Not the secret springs of water, or the wheezing machines that desperately pulled moisture from the air. Not the boy who loved her in place of his mother. Not the man that she called husband.

None of it was home anymore. Even though those things still held the biggest places in her heart.

And she felt guilty for that, Leia guessed. That the people who had loved her, who set her free, weren’t her home anymore.

Like Alderaan, Leia thought bleakly. She would always wander blind into a memory of that place that had raised her, shaped her, been her cage and her shelter in turn. That had held all the people that mattered to her most.

She had lost it, and couldn’t go back for so long.

And now she could, but it wouldn’t be the same and so she didn’t. Wouldn’t. Not instinctively, not compulsively. She didn’t belong there anymore. Not with the people that had once been her home.

It was… very different. But just a little, Leia understood.

“I won’t make you go. I can’t make you go,” Leia said. “But I think you would be happier if you considered it. Or considered sending me once we get them a holoprojector and then you can just call them whenever you feel like it.”

Shmi blanched. “We can’t afford-“

“We can,” Leia said calmly. “Not immediately. But we could save for one and give it to them so that they can stay in touch with you.”

It looked like Shmi was going to object, but she took a moment before saying, “We could. That is an option.”

And a good one as far as compromise was concerned. Taking Shmi had felt like the right thing at the time. It still felt right. But…

But Luke Skywalker had been raised by his aunt and uncle, who had taken him in, no questions asked, when they knew his father was a Jedi and that the galaxy was a very dangerous place for Force sensitives and people who hid them. He’d felt guilty about being a whiny teenager before they died, but when he could be convinced to talk about them, it was always with fondness and love.

Owen had considered Anakin Skywalker family, close enough to protect Anakin’s son. Leia didn’t know for sure if it was because Anakin had gotten close to his stepbrother later in life, or if Owen was just that dedicated to Shmi as his mother. Either way, Leia didn’t want to steal all of that from him.

Besides, he’d been kind to her too. And she liked him. She wouldn’t mind seeing him again. And Beru. Even Cleigg.

“You were asking about prayers,” Shmi interrupted Leia’s thoughts, and being yanked back to that point in the conversation, Leia had to wince.

“Just trying to understand. Alder- My home world, we had mythologies and beliefs. But the closest thing we knew to magic was the Force. And that was a Jedi thing.”

And practically a myth of its own at that point. Leia knew, tangentially, of people other than Luke that had been Force users, ex-Jedi and not, in the rebellion or passing through it, at different points. But her father and mother had kept her carefully away from them (and no wonder). So they were just another story.

Shmi ran her fingers along the edge of the table. “We had tales of the Jedi, but until I met them I believed they were a Core World myth, of sorts. A dream or a fantasy. A wish.”

“And when they came,” Leia realized, “they weren’t what you expected.”

“He wasn’t like the stories,” Shmi agreed. “But he was more real, and I think that I expected, if I was going to believe in Jedi to begin with.” Fair enough. “Anakin wanted to fight. To have power to free the slaves.” Her eyes were dark and distant. “I knew I couldn’t teach him. I had no power over the desert’s gifts. I thought…”

Until now, Leia realized. Until here and now where they were touching each other’s minds and hearts. And there was no desert and Shmi still had her gifts.

“The Force-“ Leia tried. Stopped, thought about it. “Luke says the Force is what connects everything. Binds it together. So if you’re in a desert, then I guess… the Force is a desert?”

She didn’t think she’d said anything profound, but Shmi was staring at her. And then, “Your brother’s name is Luke?”

Fuck.

Deep breath (don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it), eyes open, “Yes.”

“Says?”

_Fuck._

“Yes.” She tried not to wince. She thought she’d managed. But maybe not.

Shmi already knew. Already knew that Leia could talk to her brother’s… ghost? Spirit? Memory. But Leia had not been expansive about it, and did not want to start heading that way tonight.

If Shmi asked though…

She didn’t. “Thank you,” she said. “For telling me.” And then. “Do you think you will be able to sleep tonight?”

Barely an hour since she’d woken and still many hours to dawn. But no, Leia would not be going back to sleep. Still, as long as she was up, “I doubt it, but I think I will try and meditate. It’s supposed to be… good. I guess.”

Shmi considered that and smiled. “It sounds wise. I will write a letter to Owen, one you can take with you when you go.” And boy, she’d turned from “I’m not sure” to “we have a plan” really fast. “And then I will start on breakfast. Do you want to help?”

“If meditating goes badly,” Leia opted to be honest, “yes. And no, but I will. If it goes well, I may need you to come get me so I’m not late for work.”

“Of course.”

* * *

It used to be that when Leia meditated, she tucked all of herself away into a tiny ball, and anything that escaped she poked and wrestled with until she could get it back in. Not exactly what she had been taught, but meditating was supposed to help with her temper, and she’d figured this worked, so why not.

Then she’d met Luke and she hadn’t known she could use the Force, but explaining meditating to him had changed things a little. Also, she wasn’t trying to be a perfect little neat and tidy princess anymore, so while she did need to keep some things under wraps, she mostly tried to reconcile Alderaan. And what she was going to do with her life.

And not killing Han. He was _obnoxious_.

When Luke had told her they were siblings…

Well, after he’d _survived the Emperor_ , she’d tried to really think about it. To sit down with Luke and listen to what he advised and even work with him on it.

But when you had to piece together a galactic government, you didn’t always get to be in the same place as your sibling that had a very different skill set and role than you did.

And she’d gone back to shoving things away, all away, to be a good and proper government for a desperate people.

Here?

Here she’d been a mess. And still was.

Several hours later Leia could sense dawn coming. Which was new. Time hadn’t generally meant much when she was meditating before. Still didn’t, exactly. But whatever she’d been doing, she knew the sun was coming up and it was time to get going.

She’d called downstairs to ask if Shmi needed help, been given permission to slack off on cooking practice, and gone to clean up for the day.

She was just putting the finishing touches on her hair when a scream in the Force came from downstairs. Not pain, but _anguish_.

Leia was at the door before she had even thought, gasping, “Shmi?”

Her grandmother turned, face hopelessly blank, comlink on the floor at her feet. “Cordé’s dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very aware I have disappointed some people. I'm sorry. It just... wasn't avoidable.


	38. Marred by Memories

It wasn’t true. It wasn’t _possible_.

“ _-hmi?_ ”

There was a buzz from the comm on the floor and Leia had summoned it before she could think the action through. “We’re here,” the words were breathless, but they did come. “We’re- Can you repeat?”

There was a pause before Sabé’s voice asked, “ _Can you please verify your clearance?_ ”

The tone, the words, flipped that switch that Leia had so often relied on. Part of her was wailing, consumed with disbelief and grief. The other stepped forward and recited the necessary codes, no hesitation in her voice. “Can you please repeat the report?”

Shmi winced at every word. Leia didn’t know why (military, Shmi wasn’t military), but she couldn’t solve that right now. There was a more immediate crisis. “ _We have a report from Coruscant. There was another assassination attempt at the landing platform. The senator’s body double was killed._ ”

And they _weren’t_ saying it was Cordé. Shmi had just assumed. But-

But it was Cordé. They both knew. “Why have we been contacted?”

She wanted to know. She was… not glad, but needed to know. But that they were telling her, when she wasn’t part of the security crew, “ _Padmé needs you to come in. Both of you._ ” The slightest hesitation. “ _And bring any communications devices with you._ ”

They were suspects. Leia had known this would happen.

It still hurt.

“When we’re cleared…” Leia answered, almost surprised at the evenness of her own tone. Her heart was in turmoil, “Will we be given more details?”

“ _That can be discussed on site. Please report to the Security Force docking bay at your earliest convenience._ ”

“We’ll need to make some calls first. To the RRM,” Leia added when the silence on the other end suddenly had an oppressive feel. “To let them know we’ll be late.”

The next silence was more thoughtful, and Leia suspected they had also been briefly muted. “ _Please request the day off. We can’t provide a hard timeline for how long any questioning will take_.”

Palpatine, Leia thought as she signed off. It wasn’t just Captain Typho. This was as good an opportunity as any for the Chancellor to stick his hand in and have them investigated. Well, he was going to be in for a surprise. Shmi was exactly what she seemed, and Leia…

The Force didn’t feel the need to submit transfer documents.

A thousand thoughts were whirring around her head (creating a shield, keeping the grief out), but Leia stopped tapping the comm against her lips when she realized Shmi was staring at her, wide eyed and frightened. “Grandmother?”

“You,” Shmi wasn’t just baffled. She was terrified. “Where are your feelings?”

Something lurched in Leia, and she had to yank it back, to strain to hold it. She couldn’t, couldn’t fall apart. Not here, not now. “I… where they always are?”

But the lurch had softened something in Shmi’s features. She almost reached out, but stopped. Bowed her head, moved her hands. A prayer, Leia thought. Or a blessing. A memorial. Luke had-

Something inside her screamed then and Leia had to close her eyes to focus. To hold it back.

When she opened them again, Shmi was a more muted presence in the room, her own face more composed, more restrained. Not hardened, the way Leia was used to from pilots and soldiers. Or spies. This look had more humility, more absence to it. A fading.

A slave’s grief, Leia realized. Different than a soldier’s, but no less imperative to stay in the here and now, to feel later. When it was safe, safer, to remember.

“We need to go.” She didn’t want to. Shmi didn’t want to. But they were expected and they had promised.

“We need to eat first.”

It was rushed, but they did eat. Did finish getting dressed, getting ready. Grabbed both their comms, checked the house for any other devices they might need. Didn’t speak, not with more than meaningful looks and shrugs.

If either of them spoke, they might not make it.

Cordé was dead.

Flying to their meeting in silence was good, but it did give Leia too much time to think. To worry. To plan possibilities and try and think of ways that they could mitigate the damage done by suspicion and betrayal.

They were being made targets. Scapegoats.

She would _kill_ him for this. For each and every ounce of grief she and Shmi and Padmé and the others felt. She would make him suffer, like she was suffering. She would break him.

And Leia would enjoy _every minute_ of it.

_You want to steal my family_ , she thought, fingers tightening around the controls, _you want to make me weak? I’ll show you. I’ll take your victories, your dreams, from you. Piece by piece. I’ll teach you what it means to_ suffer _._

And she would get to watch. And that would be the greatest vengeance of all.

* * *

Sabé and Versé were waiting for them at the landing bay, along with Jar Jar Binks and Captain Panaka. The captain was looking grim, Sabé and Versé uneasy, and Jar Jar was so forlorn every inch of him drooped.

He was the first to approach, with a Gungan mourning croak, his arms outstretched to them. Shmi hugged him first, burying her face in his shoulder for a moment before responding to his cry with a phrase of her own, one Leia half recognized, as the Tatooine woman patted his head. Then Leia was swept up in an embrace, much stronger than she’d imagined. She answered it as best she could, laying a hand on his shoulder as he pulled back. “I’m so sorry.”

“Mesa-“ He stopped, looking anxiously over his shoulder to Captain Panaka. The man shook his head and Jar Jar sighed. “Wesa be needin yousa ta hand over da comms.”

Well, at least they had one ally.

Already prepared, Leia offered them to the Captain who took them away, probably to run a diagnostic somewhere they couldn’t watch.

As if Leia didn’t already know all the Naboo slicing protocols for things like this.

“We’ll also need to ask you a few questions,” Sabé was almost unreadable and Leia was more than a bit envious. It was impossible to tell if it was a skill Sabé had, or just Leia’s lack of experience in the Force. “Could you come with us?”

“Mesa-“

“Representative Binks,” Sabé was firm, but not unkind, “you were already told to wait here.”

That earned a flopping shrug and a grumbled, “Yes, mi’lady,” but he did stay as Leia and Shmi were led off. Versé disappeared with Leia’s grandmother almost right away, and Sabé didn’t lead them into one of the many offices off of the docking bay. Instead she took them to a secondary hander, not too far away, and walked them through it, out past the transports and to the very edge of the landing zone.

The sun shone behind them, illuminating the stark drop and the cascading water around them with harsh, white light. Sabé made her way to the corner, not even looking at Leia as she went, taking a seat on the narrow ledge and leaning back against the hangar wall. She gave Leia an almost provocative look when she didn’t immediately follow.

Well, it wasn’t as if it was more or less dangerous to either of them (although Leia _might_ survive a drop with the Force…).

“Padmé said she went to see you and you refused to let her tell you their plans.”

“Yes.”

Leia hadn’t expected to start with hard questions, but she might have guessed Sabé would have started with something a little less fraught. But then, Sabé was one of the handmaidens that didn’t know Leia as well. “But you did hear them talking about using a body double.”

“Yes, and changing midflight, if I remember correctly.”

No one had said Padmé was dead. No one had said and Leia wasn’t going to believe it until someone said it. Probably not even then.

But they also _hadn’t_ said how many other people had died. Leia knew it couldn’t have been just Cordé.

“And you left after they said that was their plan?”

An interesting turn of phrase. Probably not one Sabé had meant to use, if her glance to the left was any indication. Because it implied that plan had changed, and Leia probably wasn’t supposed to know that. “Yes, Shmi and I both left together.”

“After an argument.”

Leia leaned back against the wall as well, closing her eyes and listening for the sound of the water below. “Yes. I disagreed about being left out of the returning party. I was overruled.”

“Did you really want to go?”

This was… a very strange line of questioning. “Yes. I wanted to speak to Senator Darsana, and help with final preparations for the vote.”

“Liaising directly with senators wasn’t a part of your mandate,” Sabé observed calmly, lightly brushing her tunic. “It was… outside of your duties.”

Well, yes. Leia shrugged, but her mind was chasing the significance of that. “I spoke with him a few times when he showed an interest in my project. I like him. He’s an interesting person.”

“He’s close to the Chancellor.”

Was he? Leia didn’t think so. Not in the way that some of the other senators were. “He’s on the Loyalist Committee. I thought being close to the Chancellor was a prerequisite.”

They were wandering, and Leia didn’t like where this was going. “Did you fail to convey messages from the Chancellor to the Senator?”

What? “No. I only spoke to him… twice? Once while Padmé was present and once after the shooting. He asked me to convey his compliments or something like that.”

And now Sabé was really looking at her. “And he never spoke to you, or sent a messenger, other than that?”

“Not unless I missed the message,” Leia took a moment to be utterly perplexed, and then-

And then she was enraged. Again.

“Did he tell you I had failed to forward his communications?” Leia asked, trying to modulate her voice and knowing there was a clipped edge to it. The bastard. The scheming, conniving-

“Not in so many words,” Sabé admitted, leaning back again. “I wasn’t sure if his implication was that you had directly sabotaged communication, or if he was just worried that Padmé listened to you more than she did to him.”

Leia snorted. “She doesn’t listen to anyone if she doesn’t want to. If he wanted to get her to do things, he should have found a way to work with that, not against it.”

Well that had caught Sabé’s attention. “You found a way?”

“I’d like to think I figured out how to help her balance her responsibilities with her personal safety better. But I couldn’t tell you that she heeded my advice more than anyone else’s. Senator Organa had feelings about her security, and it was a daily fight she had with Captain Typho and the handmaidens.”

Spread the blame around generously and maybe Sabé wouldn’t keep following this train of thought. Or maybe she hadn’t really been worried about it because the explanation seemed to appease her. She inspected her nails. “Padmé trusts you.”

“I should hope so,” Leia said before she could think better of it. “I’ve spent months trying to help.”

“And that deserves trust?” Leia could feel that reaction, and it was definitely disdain. Joy.

“What, did you want me to sit here and brag about saving her life one time? I’m sure that’s nothing compared to how often you’ve done it.”

Alright, the snark was probably not necessary, but it did catch Padmé’s friend off guard. And, somehow, eased the tension. “Padmé does care about actions,” Sabé admitted. “She says everything you’ve done has been for the good of the Republic.”

Well, wasn’t that nice of her. And odd. Leia didn’t think of what she was doing in that context. She was just trying to get a handle on the MCA vote and figure out which way Palpatine wanted it to fall. And what to do about it if they couldn’t stop him. “That’s kind of her.”

Sabé snorted. Gave Leia half a glance. “You don’t seem jealous of her.”

“I wouldn’t take her job for anything,” Leia said emphatically. Working with Palpatine, being nice to him (or at least not violently hostile), almost every day? No thank you. “I’m very content where I am?”

For now.

Sabé seemed to catch that, but didn’t pursue it. “So you’re not jealous, but you did want to go. You were angry, but you are trying to help.” She sighed. “From where I’m standing, that just doesn’t add up to a motive.”

“If you believe me,” Leia felt compelled to add. She hadn’t been pressed very hard. She could be very good at lying.

Sabé shook her head. “I do. I’ve read the reports, Leia. Not just listened to the tall tales people have been telling. The way you took Padmé down, you were potentially moving into the shot, not out of it. I checked. If you had planned it, that would have been beyond stupid. And if you’re stupid…” her eyes drifted towards the dense green of the forests. “You wouldn’t be giving us this much trouble if you were that stupid.”

“And that’s it?” This really had been too easy.

Smiling, Sabé said, “I could walk you through all of the dead-end motives and ideas I’ve had, but I’ll spare us both. We know you didn’t do this, and that you wouldn’t have if you’d had the chance. You and Shmi are just convenient targets, convenient _refugee_ targets that are new and exciting and around when we’ve been dealing with changes. I know Captain Typho worries about it, and Panaka backs him, probably because they’re related and Padmé is _not_ careful with her life.”

“No kidding,” Leia grumped.

There was a calm look, and a shake of the head. “She isn’t. But she _is_ careful with ours.” And now it was Sabé’s turn to take a breath, and for the undercurrent of grief and sorrow she was carrying to seep out into the Force. “If she thought, even a little, that you were responsible for Cordé’s death, she’d already be back here. She’d take care of you herself.”

“And forget the vote,” Leia agreed. Sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be difficult. I assume there are other questions you need me to answer?”

“The standard ones,” Sabé agreed. “Where you’ve been, who you’ve talked to, the usual. But I’ll take you inside for those. We’ll need a written statement.”

And that was apparently that. Leia was disoriented as she stood, not from the height, but from the abrupt end to the conversation. She watched Sabé carefully, curious. The handmaiden smiled, and the gesture was so much like Padmé (like Cordé), it hurt. “I know. You expected more. But I have been watching you, you know.”

She hadn’t, but she should have suspected. Should have guessed when she came back and Sabé had quietly accepted her presence among Padmé’s people. “And what do you see?”

“Someone strange,” Sabé admitted. “Someone different. Someone dangerous.” And it was almost a relief to hear her say it. “But someone who’s on our side. Someone we can trust.” Her look was grim again. “I’ll tell you what we know once we have your statement. What happened… it can’t happen again.”

“And somebody needs to pay for it,” Leia agreed, glad to see the carefully contained rage in Sabé’s eyes.

“They took one of ours,” she almost hissed. “No one takes one of ours. Not without a price.”


	39. Collide

Anakin shivered slightly as the ship entered the atmosphere, and had to tense to make sure it didn’t shake his hands. Obi-Wan had been giving him enough grief today.

“Cold?” his frequently too observant master asked, and Anakin forced a smile.

“You know me, master. I never quite adjusted to all this space stuff.”

It earned a chuckle, but Obi-Wan didn’t make any other movements as he’d used to when Anakin had joked while flying. It said much more than words about the Jedi’s trust in his padawan and warmed Anakin a little.

Space was still too cold for him sometimes.

“We’ll be reporting as soon as we land,” Obi-Wan broke the silence after a few moments. “I heard from the Council, they want something from us. We’ll need to be debriefed right away.”

“Another mission?” It wasn’t quite a moan. Anakin loved most of the missions that they went on. It was exciting. But he’d been looking forward to a few days at the temple, and some rest.

The tension must have reached his master. “Dreams again?”

“No,” Anakin replied firmly, but not too quickly. If he got too defensive Obi-Wan would mistake it for a lie instead of just irritation. “I just… wanted some time to meditate.”

There was an uncanny pause before Obi-Wan repeated, “Meditate. You wanted… to meditate? Padawan, are you ill?”

“No,” Anakin answered with a roll of his eyes as he guided their ship through the light traffic of others entering from space. “I just… I have something I’ve been thinking about. And I was hoping for some quiet.”

A lot of things, actually. Like why Obi-Wan hadn’t recommended him for knighthood yet. Or what was going on with his mother right now. Or whether Padmé was safe. Or why for months this past year he had practically forgotten about her and his mother, when he’d sworn to himself to never forget either one of them.

A brief, sharp memory of something unraveling inside of him made his hands actually twitch, and the ship jerked slightly.

There was a reflexive, “Careful,” from Obi-Wan, but the Jedi seemed more intent on watching Anakin’s face than worrying about their landing. Which was disconcerting and comforting all at once. Then, “I’ll talk to the Council. If the mission can be handed off to someone else, we can stay here for at least a few days.”

“You think they’ll listen?”

“If they don’t,” Anakin could hear the smile in Obi-Wan’s tone, “I’ll tell them you requested extra time for meditation. That way, at the very least, we’ll be grounded until you’ve passed a very thorough medical examination.”

He managed a short laugh in answer, but Anakin wasn’t sure that wouldn’t be the exact result if Obi-Wan did have to resort to that tactic. And a medical exam was the last thing that he wanted to deal with right now.

They’d figure out right away that he wasn’t sleeping.

A hand rested on his shoulder as he readied to approach their landing platform. Obi-Wan normally never did anything to distract him at this point of the flight, so Anakin glanced in his master’s direction allowing his attention to split, just for a moment. “You’re doing well,” his master said reassuringly. “The fact that they want us for so many missions means they trust you. Whatever you’re worrying about, remember that.”

“Yes, master.”

It was even mostly believable. Many of the masters did trust Anakin, and some even liked him now. At least, he was pretty sure that was what they were implying when they told Obi-Wan it looked like he had gotten a just reward for his own years as a padawan, their eyes dancing with laughter, the air around them shimmering in the Force with humor.

Except Master Windu. He never laughed when Anakin was around. And Anakin had definitely noticed.

The ship touched down with feather lightness and Anakin smiled at another perfect landing.

* * *

Leia tapped the edge of the desk, waiting for the call to end. Padmé’s frustration was understandable, but she was working around to a third time of repeating herself. Beyond the irritation, Leia knew it was a grief and exhaustion response. Padmé needed to sleep. And to take a moment to process her feelings.

And she would probably laugh herself sick if she heard Leia say that, knowing it was advice that wasn’t being followed by the giver.

“We can have more of us out there by the end of the day,” Sabé said again, wincing as she realized she wasn’t accounting for time difference.

They all needed a break.

“ _I don’t want you here,_ ” Padmé was firm on this point at least. “ _I have plenty of security on site_.”

“ _With all due respect, mi’lady_ -“ Captain Typho looked about half a breath away from having an aneurism.

“ _Endangering more of my people is not going to make me more safe_ ,” she cut him off. And sneered, “ _Besides, they’re giving me Jedi protectors._ ”

Oh no.

No, he wouldn’t.

“The Chancellor recommended Jedi?” Sabé asked, her hands flexing out of sight of the holo. “He thinks it’s that serious?”

“ _He’s overreacting,_ ” Padmé tossed her head in a way that Leia was uncomfortably familiar with. “ _He thinks-_ “

“ _That she won’t listen and take other necessary protective measures,_ ” Captain Typho seemed to be done being rigidly polite. “ _And that having someone familiar will help keep… things…_ ”

He did. Oh, Leia was going to-

“Familiar?” Sabé seemed slightly confused. “We don’t have regular interactions with any Jedi.”

“ _But Master Kenobi is known to our people,_ ” the captain said, and Leia stifled a groan. “ _And is a Jedi we can place confidence in_.”

“Because he’s done this before,” Sabé mused. “He’s a good choice. Popular with our people, a reputation for having saved Padmé twice.”

“ _Leia saved me the second time_ ,” Padmé griped, and Leia wished she hadn’t said it. It meant Sabé’s eyes flicked to her for a moment, which meant Padmé noticed and demanded, “ _Is she there?”_

And now Captain Typho knew. Lovely.

Knowing it was pointless to pretend, Leia walked around and joined Sabé, waving at Captain Typho with a grin she knew she had learned from Han. It was annoying, that was the point of it. It made Padmé laugh a little and the captain frown, and sent a subtle but certain message to the senator.

I’m on your side.

“What can I help you with?” Leia asked, not seeing any reason to waste time on pleasantries.

Which suited Padmé just fine. “ _I’m not being locked up like a display piece. I have work I need to do to get ready for this vote._ ”

“ _Your personal appearance-_ “ Captain Typho tried.

“ _Is essential,”_ Padmé snapped. “ _Especially since… my messenger…_ ”

Threepio. Leia forced herself to stay still. To not breathe. To not think. Sabé had mentioned him first after Cordé on the list of casualties, not because he was the most important, but because she knew he would be the most important to Leia. Blasted, scattered. Fairly resilient, mostly in large component pieces, parts of him might be salvageable. They might be able to at least physically rebuild him.

His memories… No one could even begin to guess what might have happened there. His internal composition was a mechanical mystery.

“Accept the Jedi bodyguards for now,” Leia said, trying to have her tone make it a suggestion. “Master Kenobi at least knows how to behave himself in the Senate building. And you may be able to turn his presence to your advantage. Have him follow up on questions he asked at the banquet, or something.”

She could almost feel Captain Typho’s relief as Padmé visibly relaxed, considering this. She did feel Sabé’s. “ _He’s not part of our delegation._ ”

“The Chancellor claims that the role of the Jedi is to serve the Republic. And that the Senate is its core. He’s just earning his keep, really.”

Padmé snickered again, in spite of the pain in her eyes. Leia understood. You had to keep living. No matter how much it hurt. “ _Should I tell him to expect you?_ ”

It was more than a little teasing, and Leia allowed it, knowing the distraction was necessary. She had to really think about the answer though. “No. I don’t think we’re better off sending more staff down there. The Jedi protection will work as a deterrent or it won’t. And if they aren’t enough to protect you if someone does try again, there’s no way any of us would manage. Not without risking a similar cost.”

And half the battle right now was keeping Padmé sane and standing. She was tough, Leia knew. Eirtaé had spoken a few times of the horrors they had faced, fleeing the invasion. How Padmé’s hardest decision hadn’t been to run, or to ask for help, or to risk landing in Hutt space. It hadn’t even been dealing with the Sith.

It had been the day she had been told to stand by and ignore the pain and suffering of her people. Because it was a trap.

So Padmé was resilient and could do this. But losing Cordé was a close cutting wound, and all of them were feeling it.

And they couldn’t afford to make mistakes.

“ _The Senator’s safety_ -“ Captain Typho objected.

“Is in your hands,” Leia said, keeping a tight rein on the vicious smile that wanted to peek out. “Are you suggesting you aren’t up to the challenge?”

Mean, downright cruel. He had worked so hard.

But losing Kenobi wouldn’t be nearly as painful as losing another person from Naboo, if it came to that. And Leia had every (unfortunate) confidence that nothing coming after the Senator would kill Anakin.

He had a (notorious) fascinating ability to dodge danger and bounce back.

So no, Leia was not going to spare the captain’s feelings right now. She needed him out of the way so that she could deal with this.

And she could. Probably better than he had. Because she knew the kinds of tactics that were coming. “You still have Artoo?”

“ _Of course_.”

“Good, keep him close. He’s worth a small army.”

“ _We already have a plan._ ”

Even better. “Whoever our opponent is, they’ve tried a variety of attempts so far, not sticking to one method. Can you give me the list of the other ones that you expect? I may be able to add to it.”

Sabotage was a healthy portion of her career.

In the teeth of the Captain’s pained response, Padmé nodded and started listing their ideas.

* * *

“Senator Amidala?” Obi-Wan said in surprise. “Why does she need Jedi protection? Her personal guard is excellent.”

The councilors looked solemn and Anakin found himself holding his breath. It was the only way to prevent something from screaming out of his mouth.

“A great tragedy, the senator has experienced,” Master Yoda said gravely. “Compromised, her ship was. Killed, one of her bodyguards was. Insistent, the Chancellor is that Jedi protection is needed.”

“A vote is coming up this week, concerning possible war and the Separatists,” Master Windu clarified. “The senator has been very clear about her position and has apparently made enemies of some of her opponents. Again.”

The last bit was added with a degree of irritation that made Anakin want to giggle and also roll his eyes. Padmé always did what was right. Of course people made enemies that way. Any Jedi should know that.

“Our presence is specifically at the Chancellor’s request?” Anakin eyed Obi-Wan closely hearing that tone. It meant his master was disturbed by something, but Anakin couldn’t guess what. There was nothing odd in the Chancellor asking for their help. He at least knew that Anakin was capable.

“He mentioned you specifically when he proposed the idea to the senator,” Master Windu confirmed. “I think he hoped if she knew who the guard would be, she would be more likely to accept the help. She was _very_ resistant to the idea of needing more security.”

“Naturally,” Obi-Wan answered, with the smallest hint of a smile. “The senator does like things to go… her way.”

“Take this mission, you and your padawan will,” Master Yoda said firmly. “Advise the senator, help her see reason you must.”

“She was very distressed by her body double’s death,” Master Mundi added calmly. “It might be a good way to help her see reason, if she does resist your advice.”

Shifting carefully from foot to foot while trying to make it look like he was being still, Anakin managed not to frown. But it was close. The usual oppression of the council room seemed to sit more heavily than usual.

Why didn’t they consider that Padmé might be right?

“We will of course do our best to protect the senator. You say the vote is this week?” Obi-Wan was good at not committing to anything he didn’t want to and while Anakin couldn’t always tell what his master did want, at least in this case he knew that Obi-Wan hadn’t promised one way or another.

“In just a few days,” Master Windu confirmed. “And depending on how the vote goes, she may need even more protection.”

“We will keep that in mind,” Obi-Wan promised.

They exited the room in silence, but it wasn’t long before Obi-Wan said, “I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t mention your request for a few days off.”

“Of course not,” Anakin answered quickly, unsure if Obi-Wan’s tone had been teasing or questioning. Sometimes it was just too hard to tell. “Pa- Senator Amidala needs protection now. And we can’t refuse a request from the Chancellor.”

“Can’t we?” Obi-Wan murmured, but he didn’t seem to expect and answer. His gaze was already unfocused as if he were mediating while walking. Which he could be. They both knew these halls well enough now that it was probably an easy exercise for Anakin’s master.

Anakin felt doubly sure when Obi-Wan’s focus reappeared as they approached a speeder, his gaze landing on Anakin with an all too knowing smile.

“Do try and not get us pulled over this time. We want to be punctual to our assignment.”

“I know how to fly,” Anakin muttered, fighting a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, it' the return of the Jedi...


	40. Remembering

Shmi had dinner ready by the time Leia got home. The house smelled of wildflowers and incense, which seemed odd to Leia until she remembered how thoroughly Shmi had researched Naboo grief rituals. She’d probably already performed her own Tatooine remembrances. These were respect to Cordé in a form that would have been familiar to the woman.

That didn’t diminish the tears that pricked at Leia’s eyes as she spotted the small bouquets in each room, near windows or doors.

She needed to hurry and eat before grief demanded her full attention.

“Leia?”

Shmi seemed better and worse now. Her rituals had calmed her, but that just left space to feel the empty hole where a person was supposed to be and-

Later. Hold. Just for a few more minutes, hold.

“Do you need me to set the table?”

Mundane tasks to act as a shield for a few more minutes. Food to mouth. Dishes washed. Kitchen cleaned, everything put away.

It was stupid, but the moment they finished, Leia felt the emptiness of the room and it was oppressive. Task finished and done, now to rest, empty and silent…

She’d been putting this off too long.

No tears while she lit her own sticks of incense, mind reciting the prayers for the dead, violently carried away (and how appropriate, that the Naboo had a separate remembrance for that). No tears as she made her way to the couch, stopping to touch the blossoms Shmi had bought, fingering silk soft petals and catching the scent of summer and sun and gentleness.

Cordé had been hard, Leia thought as she curled up on the couch, knees pulled up and in, making a barrier between her and the world. Hard, beneath the soft beauty that had so closely imitated Padmé. Not unkind, but strong. Resilient. She’d joined the handmaidens after the invasion, resolve and competence covering for the lack of experience she had compared to the others. Sabé had told story after story that day as they’d processed data coming in from Coruscant, as they’d prepared letters for grieving families, made calls, arranged for financial compensation, began preliminary work on memorials. It wasn’t just Cordé they had lost, there were four others that had been on the landing ramp, two pilots, almost a half dozen droids on the ship.

And between each task, Leia had allowed herself to be an outlet for a grief so personal, it had almost stolen her breath away. Sabé had stepped aside as Padmé’s primary double when Cordé had proved to be up to the task. Two hands, a right and a left, one more suited to Naboo, the other to the Senate. The relationship that Padmé had described when she had shut down Leia’s attempts to join their retuning party wasn’t just a two-person partnership. It had been three people, one always apart from the others, standing a little distant to watch what couldn’t be seen from up close.

Sabé had missed the attack. From what she didn’t say, it was clear that she saw Cordé’s death as her fault. Her cowardice. Her incompetence.

And Cordé and Padmé had paid for it.

“You’re wandering,” Shmi said, invading Leia’s space and sitting right next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “It will still be here, no matter where you go.”

Right, it was time to face her grief, not avoid it by empathizing with Sabé’s. “I’ve only known her a few months,” Leia whispered. “And still…”

It wasn’t the grief of losing her brother, or her parents (or Han). But stars and fire, it _hurt_. Hurt because.

Because the moment she looked, that she was honest, she didn’t just see grief. The darkness she expected was intertwined, interwoven, with red bright as blood.

Rage.

Twisted together with her sadness, with the truth of “is gone” was a spite and malice that almost took her breath away.

It was shameful, to not make a pure space for Cordé’s grief. But Leia couldn’t do it. Couldn’t let go of the rage and the fire that coiled around her, seeped into her bones.

Or maybe… maybe the fire had always been there. Banked sometimes by grief or hopelessness, reduced to the slightest flickering embers. But always to return. When grief had passed, or more blood was spilled.

Or when the cold coalesced in the darkness, shimmering blue, offering revenge.

Offering peace. Offering purpose.

“ _Family,_ ” Luke’s voice was the barest, faintest whisper. “ _Offering family._ ”

Damn him, he was right. And she couldn’t deal with that, on top of everything else.

“You should talk about it,” Shmi’s voice cut through the spiral, grounded Leia like the arm around her shoulders, the warm weight pressed against her side. “You need to talk about it.”

“Not now,” Leia whispered. “Not yet.”

She thought Shmi would stay silent, but her grandmother asked, “Are you sure?”

And Leia wasn’t. Wasn’t, because, “I hate them. I hate them all. All of them, taking people away from me.”

It was so easy to blame Palpatine. But if he were the only one…

“It’s not fair,” she continued, burying her face in Shmi’s shoulder, seeking comfort and refusing to be comforted. “It’s not fair that I keep losing them. What’s the point of even trying if- if-“

Gods and storms, she _was_ her father’s daughter.

And she hated herself even more.

Because Cordé’s death wasn’t Sabé’s fault, or Padmé’s, or even the Emperor’s.

It was Leia’s.

She just hadn’t figured out how yet.

* * *

The lift to Padmé’s floor wasn’t actually unnaturally slow, but Anakin felt stifled anyway. Away from the Council and no longer flying, now he could fidget, and so he did.

“Nervous?” Obi-Wan asked with no small amount of amusement.

“It’s been ten years. What if she’s forgotten me?” He had almost forgotten her, hadn’t he? And how had that happened?

Chuckling, Obi-Wan answered, “Padawan, we saw her only a few weeks ago. I’m sure she remembers you. She did then.”

Anakin managed a smile in return, but felt little comfort. He hadn’t exactly made a great impression then, he was sure, crying all over his mother and constantly getting lost in the conversation.

“Relax,” his master urged, sensing the growing tension. “We’re here as bodyguards, not guests. Our priority is her safety, not her good opinion. You can win her over later, when we’ve saved her life a few times.”

“A few?” Anakin responded with more heat than he’d meant to. It earned him a quirked brow and that superior, teacherly look.

“Were you listening to the Council? Yes, I expect there will be a few.”

But before Anakin could demand that Obi-Wan elaborate, the doors hissed open and the Jedi was stepping out to greet their welcoming committee.

“Master Jedi,” a security guard with an eye patch greeted them, oozing enough skepticism to make Anakin nervous. Did he just not trust Jedi, or was there that much danger to Padmé’s life?

“This way,” he said, leading them through the door and into a sitting room where several more Naboo security officers were already stationed. Their placement was good, but Anakin reached out with the Force anyway, feeling Obi-Wan do the same.

Which is how he felt Padmé before he actually saw her, and was surprised at how familiar she felt. Not just like the Padmé he remembered, but somehow even more… connected.

“Master Kenobi,” she came into view with no smile, and Anakin almost thought he could detect a hint of red in her eyes. “I understand the Council has sent you to protect me.”

“They have,” his master answered with a gracious nod. “And I promise that Anakin and I will do our best to take care of you, and your people.”

A tension Anakin hadn’t been aware of lightened at those last words, but it evaporated completely to be replaced by unguarded surprise as Padmé saw him. “You brought Anakin? I’m sorry, of course. I just- “ She floundered and Anakin felt his stomach sinking. “I forgot, Anakin, how did you get so _tall_?”

She _had_ forgotten. And she was nervous, which was not the reaction Anakin had been looking for. “Well, Master Obi-Wan will tell you it’s gravity fighting a losing battle to keep my feet on the ground. Against my space head, I mean. No, I mean-“

They were all the wrong words, but Padmé’s laugh echoed with surprised delight, not mockery, and Anakin promised himself his next words would be better. Much, much better.

Still, he’d gotten a smile. That was something.

"I just can't believe it. I’m still so used to thinking of you as so small. But you’ve been with the Jedi for almost ten years now.“

Despair. She really had forgotten him. In just a few short days.

“I fear he may still be growing,” Obi-Wan’s voice was laughing for him. “What am I to do with a padawan twice as tall as I am?”

“Make him a coat rack,” was the muttered reply from the eyepatch guard. Anakin almost missed it.

“You could knight me.” He hadn’t meant for it to sound like an accusation, but apparently the guard had bothered him more than he’d thought. Obi-Wan was upset now. Great.

“That decision is up to the Council,” his master said pointedly. “But I’m sure they’ll be interested in your performance during this mission.”

Get in line, was that message. And Padmé was frowning now. Only a little, just between her eyes. But Anakin spotted it as she looked between him and Obi-Wan.

“We’ll do everything in our power to protect you, Padmé,” he promised. He wanted to joke again, but if Obi-Wan meant that, if he could get knighted if he just took this seriously…

She didn’t look reassured. It wasn’t _fair_.

Padmé turned back to Obi-Wan. “Not that I don’t appreciate your willingness, but I don’t need extra guards. I need someone to find out who did this, before more of my people are put in danger.”

That… was a very real fear. Anakin felt it spike in the Force and without thinking reached out with soothing. A prod in the Force from Obi-Wan reminded him that was rude. He hadn’t asked. But he didn’t release it right away, and noticed Padmé’s shoulders relax slightly.

Good.

“We weren’t assigned to find the perpetrator,” Obi-Wan cautioned gently. “Our mandate is to protect you.”

Yes but, “So we should focus on finding the perpetrator. She’ll be safe if we do that.” Not to mention it had been _weeks_ since the shooting and the perpetrator hadn’t been found. That was just sloppy.

He was getting glares from Obi-Wan and the eye-patch guard now. It wasn’t fair. He’d had a good idea.

“We stick to our mandate, Anakin. Our objective is to keep the senator safe until the vote has taken place. There’s no guarantee we can find this person in three days, and Padmé would be left unguarded while we tried.”

Hunching slightly, Anakin nodded. It was a good point. But Padmé wanted-

“Again, I appreciate your concern, but I’m more worried now for my people. Some of them are taking this threat… too seriously.”

That earned an eye roll from Eye-Patch, but it didn’t seem directed at Padmé “You can order her to stand down,” he said in a tone that knew it was going to be ignored.

Padmé actually snorted. “Right. You try that. Tell me how it goes.”

It was dry, but Anakin felt affection leaking off her, and fondness. Something twisted in him and he said, “We can always protect them too.”

Maybe he’d come across as too defensive. Padmé blinked before answering. “Actually, she’s on Naboo right now. And I think we can keep her there for at least few more days. Leia’s always practical. She won’t put me in more danger by showing up and being a distraction.”

“She tried to go after them alone,” Eye-Patch muttered, and Padmé’s ease spiked into fear again, her lips pressed together.

“Then maybe you should be keeping an eye on her, Captain.”

That was cold. And made the captain flinch. “Captain Panaka has her in hand. My duty is to protect you, Senator.”

Something was… wrong. Anakin couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was more than just the tension of nervous people in this room. Floundering for something to fix it, he almost missed Obi-Wan asking, “You’re worried about Leia?”

Padmé blinked. “It’s always been an open question as to whether or not she was a target of the shooting too. It seems less likely, given… well, what’s happened. But since we haven’t caught anyone, we can’t rule it out.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “You didn’t bring her with you?”

“No, she was helping with… another project.” Padmé’s eyes flicked to Anakin and his heart jumped into his throat. Why had she looked at him just then? “And with the incident on Naboo, we were trying to keep staff here to a minimum.”

“Incident on Naboo?” Anakin demanded. His master looked surprised too. The Council hadn’t mentioned-

“There was a terrorist attack,” Eye-Patch said, leaking almost as much frustration as Padmé at this point. “The Senator’s contingent, some members of the Royal Advisory Council, and members of the RRM were targeted in an explosion.” His eye narrowed as he looked at Padmé. “The Senator’s father was only recently released from the hospital.”

“Your father was hurt?” Anakin wasn’t panicking, but he could only imagine how awful that was. His mother-

No, he couldn’t think about that. Those times were behind them.

“He was injured,” Padmé was a mess of emotions when she said that. But she relaxed a bit as she added, “They kept him for observation longer than usual to make sure he didn’t tire himself out at work while he was recovering.”

“A family trait?” Obi-Wan suggested with a smile.

For a second it looked like Padmé was offended, but then she smiled back. “That’s a good way to put it.”

Anakin’s master thought for a moment before asking, “Leia was part of the contingent caught in the attack?”

Padmé shook her head. “No, she was off planet at the time, on one of our moons.”

“And she was or wasn’t expected as part of your party when you returned for the vote?” Obi-Wan seemed anxious. It was a subtle thing, but Anakin had been trapped in a nest of gundarks with the man. You learned the signs really quick that way.

“No.”

Folding his arms, Obi-Wan said, “It doesn’t seem like she is much of a target if two of the three attacks she wasn’t involved. I think you can rest easy where she is concerned.”

Padmé arched a brow. “Are we talking about the same person?”

That made his master think, then wince. “Possibly… she might get herself into trouble. If she thought that was… needed.”

Who was this Leia? Except… right, she had been Obi-Wan’s dinner partner. “Does she have security on Naboo?” Anakin asked. If Padmé was still worried, better to deal with that first. After all, they were here to take care of her.

“Not formal,” Padmé said, looking over to Eye-Patch. “We should probably arrange it. If only to keep her out of trouble.”

“Her mother won’t like it,” Eye-Patch said. “And we’ll have to get them both for it to work.”

“Shmi’s not-“ Padmé started and Anakin felt the galaxy tilt around him. Only half noticed Padmé glancing at him, then Obi-Wan. “Shmi isn’t Leia’s mother.”

Eye-patch had somehow managed more frowning and he looked at Anakin, “A cousin then?”

What? That wasn’t- They didn’t _have_ family. Not like… not like blood ties in the Core. “No? I don’t-“

“Leia took the name Skywalker when they arrived on Naboo,” Padmé did _not_ look happy about having to explain this. Anakin wasn’t happy hearing it. Why hadn’t his mother _told_ him? “I don’t know the details, they don’t talk about it.”

That did sound like his mom, Anakin had to admit. And Leia, Leia _Skywalker_ , well, he shouldn’t be surprised. If she’d lost a home, a family… Mom always wanted more kids.

Still, he hadn’t actually thought she’d replace him.

(It hurt.)

“I’d be happy to discuss this further at a later time,” Obi-Wan was definitely lying about that. Wait, he knew Leia. This whole time, did he know? “But for right now, I think we need to discuss what safety measures are already in place and where we can be of most use.”

“In the Senate-“ Padmé started to say before Eye-Patch guy said, “I’ll take you around the buildi- No, my lady. You aren’t going in.”

“What is the point,” Padmé demanded, rage rolling out into the room like a tidal wave, “of being stuck on this planet if I’m not allowed to _do my job?_ ”

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan stepped physically between them, addressing Padmé, “if we can take a look around the building and discuss the current measures. Then Anakin and I can decide if making a trip to the Executive Building or the Senate is within reason.”

Oh right, it was rude when Anakin offered comfort without asking, but Obi-Wan was allowed to be empathetic all over the place whenever he wanted. Of course.

“Alright,” Padmé agreed. “But the final decision is mine.” She glared at Eye-Patch. “Are we clear?”

That face said no, but the guard only nodded. “If the two of you will come with me.”

Oh great, they were going back to the lift. Well, Anakin could at least be glad he had made Padmé smile once. Looking back over his shoulder as they left, he couldn’t help but notice how stiff and scared she looked.

He would have to do something about that.


	41. Escalations

The building was quiet. Oddly quiet.

Anakin was used to the constant hum of the Jedi Temple, which had its lulls of course. But there were nocturnal inhabitants of the Temple as well as those that were coming and going on missions on the schedule of other planets and systems. The communication lines were always manned, and Anakin remembered the few times he and Obi-Wan had been asked to take an overnight shift, probably as punishment for something. Master Windu said it was to get Anakin familiar with the kinds of requests the Jedi got, but Anakin was pretty sure they had also done something Master Windu hadn’t liked. Something… about the starships? He couldn’t remember.

“Captain Typho has settled in downstairs,” Obi-Wan didn’t announce his arrival, but it wasn’t like Anakin hadn’t noticed his master zipping up to this floor. He was paying attention. No one would get Padmé. “How is the senator doing?”

“Asleep,” Anakin answered, feeling the fretful rest coming from the various rooms. Padmé and her friend were both having disturbed nights. “They went down a little while ago.”

Obi-Wan frowned as he tried to check the cameras, “What-“

“She covered them,” Anakin sighed, turning to his master. And grinned. “I don’t think she liked me watching her.”

That got a mixed look from Obi-Wan, something possibly along the lines of, “You don’t say,” and also, “I don’t disagree with her.”

Which was completely unfair. Anakin was being very professional.

His master reached out in the Force, wondering, “I don’t know how she thinks we’ll keep her- Is she using herself as bait?”

Squirming, Anakin said, “No harm will come to her. I can-“

“We can’t depend on her to be making sound judgements about risks to herself,” Obi-Wan’s expression was tighter than Anakin had been expecting. “The dangers-“

“I can sense everything going on in that room,” Anakin protested. “You know I can.”

“Even if that is true,” Obi-Wan was definitely grumpy about being interrupted, “that doesn’t change that the senator is under a lot of stress and aiming for unreasonable goals.”

“What’s so unreasonable about wanting to catch the killer? The Jedi should have found them already.”

His master wanted to agree with him on that one. But then he’d have to admit that Anakin was right, and obviously that wasn’t going to happen. “It’s not unreasonable that she wants the threat eliminated. But if there have been three attempts on her life already and the perpetrator hasn’t been caught, our primary concern needs to be seeing her through the night, and then the next few days. She’s placed a lot of importance on this vote.”

“So we protect her _and_ catch the person after her.” It was so simple.

Frowning, but in a way that made Anakin uncomfortable because it was trying to be gentle, “You aren’t at your best either, Padawan.”

What? “If you’re saying I can’t do this-“

“I’m saying no such thing,” Obi-Wan stepped closer, trying to smile. “I’d much rather have you here with me than anywhere else. But I need you to trust my judgement, and Captain Typho’s. If we try and take down the assassin by tracking them we’re splitting our attention. And the senator has insisted that she needs to be at this vote. Which means _our_ priority is getting her there. Do you understand?”

He did understand, “But if we catch them she won’t be in danger,” Anakin insisted. It was just _logic_.

Obi-Wan drifted away, his arms crossed for a moment, and then running a hand through his hair. He did that more now that it was short. It bothered Anakin, reminded him that- well that he had been wrong. In thinking Obi-Wan cared. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why you need more time to meditate?”

The conversation shift was abrupt and Anakin didn’t like it. “I just… I wanted time to think about things.”

“Like what?” His master was in full on long-suffering mode, and looked too much like he was humoring Anakin.

But he was all Anakin had, so, “I’ve been thinking about my mother.” Which reminded him, “Did you know about Leia?”

That was a flinch. “I did,” Obi-Wan at least had the decency not to lie after giving it away so easily. “Not… Not when I first met her. Not even when I invited her to the dinner with me.” He huffed a laugh. “We were being introduced to some guests by Senator Organa when I heard her full name for the first time. I… very nearly embarrassed myself.”

There was a twist of glee at imagining Obi-Wan almost fainting that was edged with suspicion. “So when my mom came here, you knew who Leia was.”

“That’s-“

He froze for half a second, and they both pivoted towards Padmé’s door, moving before Anakin had fully processed that he had sensed danger. Whipped around the hall, lightsaber out as the door slid open, half a breath to spot the… bugs? And then they were against the far wall, dead.

His eyes moved up, caught Padmé’s gaze and he was lost there for a moment before there was the sound of shattered glass and he turned to see that his master had jumped out the window, latching on to some droid.

“Our mandate is to protect the senator,” Anakin muttered under his breath, nose scrunched, tone high. “Not to _catch_ anything. Stay here,” he told Padmé as he ran out of the room. Her friend was already coming, so Padmé wouldn’t be alone. Which was good. Anakin needed to go and rescue Obi-Wan again.

* * *

A mad speeder chase, a high jump, a slight crash, an embarrassingly short bar fight, and a briefly lost lightsaber later, Anakin and Obi-Wan were hauling a one-armed shapeshifter into a dark alley, and Anakin was pretty pleased. One bounty hunter caught, one question she needed to answer, one senator that was now saved. And Obi-Wan had said this was a bad idea.

“Who hired you?” wasn’t getting them very far the first few times they asked, but Anakin knew how to pull the Force around him to intimidate as much as hide. He knew Obi-Wan didn’t like it, but they didn’t have time and-

“It was a bounty hunter named-“

Too late Anakin noticed a flash in the Force, heard a swish and a small thunk, and then the bounty hunter was fading, slipping away in a string of profanity directed at an armored shadow with a jet pack, flying off into the night.

Obi-Wan swore as he removed the poisoned dart and Anakin blinked. “Hey, you said I couldn’t use those words because they weren’t fitting for a Jedi!”

Blinking, his master looked over. “I think we’re entitled tonight.”

And that was new. Obi-Wan was mostly holding together, but part of him seemed shaken. Almost… unsure. “But we caught her.”

“She said she was hired by another bounty hunter,” Obi-Wan said, handing the dart to Anakin while he scooped up the body. “Bounty hunter hires another bounty hunter, that means two things. One, the trail is twice as obscure to the actual client. And two,” he paused at the mouth of the alley, trying to gauge if they could make it back to the speeder without getting noticed (that was a definite no), “it means the hit was worth enough to pay someone else to do some of the dirty work.”

And if the base cost of hiring someone to kill a senator was around what Anakin thought it was, “That’s… a _lot_ of money, master.”

“Not only that,” Obi-Wan accepted the inevitable and walked out, trying to deflect people’s attention without much success, “but we haven’t caught the people we need to yet. And the bounty hunter may hire more bounty hunters again. Which means this could take a while.”

Which meant they needed to stay close to Padmé. Anakin looked down at the three-pronged dart, frowning. “I’ve never seen one like this.”

“Neither have I,” Obi-Wan did not like how tonight was turning out. “But with any luck, that means it’s very unique and once we pull the data on it from the archives, we’ll know exactly who we’re looking for.”

That was a cheering thought. “Where are we taking the body?”

“The Temple,” Obi-Wan was firm. “When the hunt for the shooter got moved to Coruscant’s security force, they lost the whole trail. This one we’re taking care of personally.”

Anakin didn’t envy the Jedi that had to deal with this sort of thing. It didn’t happen often, but some things you could only find in the Force, and he was glad Obi-Wan had thought of that. “What about Padmé?”

The body now dropped in the back, Obi-Wan turned, a single raised brow saying instead of words that Anakin was the one who had left her unguarded.

“Her handmaiden was with her when I left,” Anakin hunched his shoulders, wishing he had his cloak so he could hide in it. He hated getting that look. “She should have called the guards.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “I’ll drop you off with them on my way. So no one can say we weren’t doing our job.”

Which meant Anakin could spend time with Padmé and Obi-Wan wouldn’t be there to embarrass him. It was a real relief.

* * *

Leia was pissed. Leia was pissed because the last few days had been a cosmic horror and joke, all in one go, and because Padmé was pissed and even systems away Leia was fully prepared to channel that as far as it would go because she was not above being pissed on behalf of two people.

Or twenty.

At a guess, Queen Jamillia was pissed too, but was too good at her job to say anything about it. Leia really wanted to be Queen Jamillia when she grew up.

Sabé was also pissed, and so was Captain Panaka, but Sabé was pissed because she didn’t think a couple of Jedi were good enough at their job and Captain Panaka was pissed because Sabé kept letting Leia come to updates and overruled anyone who suggested it should be otherwise.

One plus to the last few days, Leia and Sabé were becoming fast friends.

“You remind me of Padmé,” Sabé had said at one point. “But with more proactive intentions of punching people in the face.”

Which was an impressive observation because Leia, in point of fact, hadn’t actually punched anybody yet. But it was probably true. Padmé had something of an exponential violence scale where she mostly just wanted to yell at people louder and louder until she wanted to shoot them dead. Leia took her time getting to that point, knowing there was a lot of satisfaction to be had breaking someone’s nose before you got to shooting them.

In any event, Leia’s frustration now was directed very specifically at the Jedi Council.

“What do you mean they’re sending her back?”

Captain Typho winced, glancing over his shoulder. Padmé had apparently just gone back to sleep when first word came from the Temple that their recommendation was to have her escorted back to Naboo. They would make an official change to their mandate in the morning (on Coruscant) and it was quite possible they would try and make their suggestion an order.

Leia hoped they choked on it.

“ _They haven’t told us much, but what they do know is there is still a bounty hunter loose, and one who may be able to hire others. The planet just isn’t safe-_ “

“The whole point of having Jedi,” Leia didn’t grind her teeth, but it was a near thing, “is to protect her, _on Coruscant_ , so that she can _go to the vote_. We’re all very aware that, here or there, Padmé isn’t safe.”

“ _But she’d be safer on Naboo_ ,” Typho insisted, his voice still low. There was a skeptical look shared by Versé and Sabé, which made Leia feel slightly less alone. It was tempting to just throw up her hands and storm out, but if Padmé was too tired to defend herself and her job, someone had to do it. “ _I’ll be talking to her tomorrow about the plans_.”

“Can you even get her off planet without getting her blown up?” Leia demanded, and the man actually flinched before narrowing his eye at her.

“ _Yes, I think we can._ ”

Based on nothing, as far as Leia could tell, but then her confidence that it would be better for Padmé to just stay wasn’t really based on anything either. In fact, it probably wasn’t the safer move. It was just the only politically smart one.

Padmé’s main point against a grand army for the Republic was that it would destroy any negotiating power the Senate had by being a live and ominous threat to the Separatist worlds. Aside from the expense, the poor regulation, the training that would be required, the time it would take… But really, the point was, in her view, we can still talk to them. It’s still safe.

If Padmé wasn’t at the vote, what would be lost wasn’t just her voice. It was her conviction. And if she wasn’t at the vote because of unknown violence threatened against her? It wouldn’t just be bad for the anti-military movement, it would be a bloodbath.

And _no one_ was paying attention to that.

“We’ll need to get Padmé’s permission before we try and move her,” Sabé reminded the captain, folding her arms and looking as stern as Leia had ever seen anyone. “I know her safety is your concern, but Leia is right that there were reasons we took these risks.” A very hard look. “It’s already cost Cordé her life to get Padmé back there. We’re not going to waste it.”

And that argument made Captain Typho’s face do all sorts of interesting things. It was clear now, to Leia, that his team and the handmaidens frequently worked at cross purposes. As an extension of Padmé’s authority, their priority was to keep her safe, but in the context of always being able to do her job.

Captain Typho was there to protect Padmé from harm, like the Royal Security Forces who trained him. To protect her as a symbol and an icon. Even if it meant sometimes making other people step into her place to actually get things done.

Before things could escalate, Queen Jamillia added, “We don’t want to be hasty, and we don’t want to be careless with Padmé’s life. But if the Jedi were able to stop this last assassination, let’s put our trust in them for now and speak with Padmé in the morning.”

Padmé’s morning. They would have to reconvene for another late night meeting here on Naboo. It wasn’t quite opposite schedules between the planets’ rotations right now, but it wasn’t a neat overlap.

Captain Typho bowed to the queen and signed off, and everyone in the room slumped a little. Captain Panaka was looking at Leia with no small amount of dislike. Well too bad. Leia didn’t like the people she loved being in danger any more than he did, but she did know, unlike him, that there were serious consequences to small actions when you were playing on the galactic stage, not just the local one.

At least the queen seemed to realize it. “Do we have the appropriate measures here to keep her safe if she does come?” Queen Jamillia had the bonus protection of thick makeup to hide her weariness, but Leia could sense that the woman was at the end of today’s rope.

“There are options,” Captain Panaka said. “Safe homes in the city, bunkers in more private locations. Honestly, our best bet is probably the Gungans. Not that bounty hunters can’t reach them, but they’ll have a much harder time under water. And they’ll stand out.”

“She’d have more freedom of movement there,” Sabé agreed, “which might make her easier to contain. Although,” a frown, “it might be harder to disguise where she is on any calls. And she’ll want to keep working.”

“She may need to take a break,” Captain Panaka looked almost furious at the soft laughs that sounded all around the room at those words. “It’s the best-“

“I try to ask what is within reason,” the queen said, her voice kind but firm. “Padmé was chosen for her strong sense of duty. I will not waste her life, but I will not entrap it either. If we are talking a few days, perhaps that will work. More than that,” Jamillia shook her head. “We need to consider hiring outside security if this looks to be long term. The Jedi cannot watch her forever. They are needed elsewhere. And we have the resources to upgrade her security ourselves, if needed.”

A risky move, but a good one to think about.

“Do we have confirmation that Representative Binks will be arriving on time tomorrow?” Leia asked. The Gungan had been sent, knowing that Padmé might have trouble getting to work while the danger was highest. They couldn’t rule out that something might happen to him, but the quick decision to send him along shouldn’t have reached general channels. The Chancellor wouldn’t be told until after Jar Jar had landed, and Leia at least knew that improved his safety quite a bit.

“As far as we can tell, yes,” Captain Panaka said, relaxing just a bit. “And he’s willing and ready to stay as long as we need him there.”

Really not ideal. Senator Organa could mostly keep an eye on him, but it was always better to have the Gungan supervised by someone from his own delegation. “Then we’re as ready as we can be. For now.”

Sabé and the queen nodded and Versé moved to open the room. Leia thanked Sabé for an offer of staying in the Senator’s suite, but she wanted to at least try and get home and see Shmi one time today.

They were both still a little on edge.


	42. Tip the Scales

In the silence between dusk and dawn, anything could happen, Luke had once told her.

Which had bewildered Leia, because she hadn’t lived in places where the night was a time of quiet. Having been on Tatooine, she wasn’t sure it was actually silent there either.

But she got the message.

Which was why she was awake in the middle of the night, curled up on the edge of her roof, warm drink in hand, counting the stars. Waiting for something to happen. Sabé hadn’t called Leia yet, but it was only a matter of time. Padmé should be up by now, and while Captain Typho would try and delay the argument, Dormé at least would make sure that things moved along as quickly as possible.

Not to mention at some point the Jedi would have to explain what they wanted.

All Leia had to do was wait, and try not to fall asleep.

Not like that was hard. She’d been channeling so much energy in the last few days it was a miracle she had gotten any sleep at all. Although Shmi’s presence was naturally soothing enough it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise. And the rest was good, because it meant Leia was ready for now, much more than she would have been if she hadn’t slept at all.

“ _You’re gonna get yourself into trouble_ ,” Luke sounded far too smug for Leia to be worried.

“And where did I learn that?”

“ _Uh, who rescued whom off a moon sized space station? I did not teach you how to get into trouble._ ”

Leia smiled, the first real smile she’d managed in days. “And who exactly had ended up on the station in a position to rescue me?”

" _The guy whose sister got herself suck on a moon sized space station. I wouldn't have been there if you weren't._ "

"Yes you would have."

" _I'd have flown with the fighters to blow it up, later. I was_ on _the station because I had to rescue you._ "

"Don't lie. Han complained for years that you never would have ended up on that thing if anyone had told him what was going on. You were heading for Alderaan, not me."

"I _was coming for you,_ " Leia could imagine Luke pulling a mock version of the face he'd used to make at her, when they'd first met and she could tell she was the first pretty girl he’d met that he hadn't grown up with. " _Ben's job was to get to Alderaan._ "

"The point is-"

" _The point is you were a rebel spy trying to steal plans for the Empire's secret weapon right out from under them._ _You were going to be there regardless of if I was coming._ ”

“Maybe I wasn't…” Leia muttered, sipping thoughtfully. It was so hard to parse, in retrospect, how much of her life had been influenced by her connection with the Force, and to Luke.

There were some things she could be sure of. The longing during her childhood for someone to be standing beside her, someone she knew she missed. The dreams, nightmares really, that were so real and painful she couldn’t remember them when she woke. The edge of fear in her life that they had brought had been real. She may have attributed it to the undercurrent of her parents running a rebellion, but with hindsight, Leia knew better.

Normal people didn’t go around that afraid of fire jumping out at them from shadows.

But her violent dislike of the Emperor, her discontent at the unfairness in the galaxy, her friendship with Pooja Naberrie, her tendency to occasionally leap without looking or even to plan ahead and still end up in catastrophically life threatening situations, those weren’t Force things. At least, she couldn’t prove it.

Luke still had opinions. “ _You would have been there. You don’t only do hard things when you know someone’s coming to save you._ ”

“Of the two of us,” Leia mused, frustrated and sad, “I was the one who grew up in a giant palace with a full security force, overprotective parents, and the knowledge of a network of spies and insurgents who would have done just about anything to spit in the eyes of the Empire. You could say I grew up knowing someone would always come for me.”

And they had, which was the funnier part. But her brother’s voice was actually getting clearer, sharper now, as he voiced his disagreement. “ _And here? Who’s going to come for you?”_

“Shmi would,” Leia said, although she could still see his point. Shmi would come, but what could she do? “Padmé-“

Padmé might come. Probably would. If she knew where to find Leia. If it wasn’t more important for Padmé to be somewhere else, doing something else. If she was available, then she would come.

“ _You know they would come, if they could. But you’re not counting on it. If you get trapped, stuck alone with him, you won’t hesitate. You’ll do what needs to be done._ ”

Unsure if that was a comforting thought or not, Leia at least had to admit that it was true. Probably. “What if it’s not enough?”

What if… what if she couldn’t do it?

“ _Leia,_ ” Luke’s voice was quieter, but not fainter. It was solid. Serious. “ _You’ll do whatever is necessary_.”

“ _And don’t look back._ ”

In the dim glow of the stars, Leia could almost imagine she was back on that ship, locked in her own quarters, the afterimage of her past watching her with the deepest (saddest) eyes. “I don’t know why you believe that. Either of you.”

“ _You stood up to Father,_ ” Luke was so gentle, even when she couldn’t see him. “ _You stood up to Jabba. You stood up to anybody._ ”

“So I will now?” She was so tired. Not in her body, which was still buzzing, waiting for the next moment to move, to attack. But in her soul. She just… she just wanted to rest.

Nowhere was safe enough.

“ _You still haven’t stopped. I don’t think anything can make you_.”

“That makes one of us,” she muttered, hitching the blanket back over her shoulders.

He just chuckled. “ _We both know I’m right_.”

Sure he was. But instead of rolling her eyes, Leia allowed herself to smile. To think about a world where she would never give up, where nothing would ever stop her. Not from doing what was right.

It looked… kind of a lot like the world she was currently in, actually.

“Dammit.”

Luke laughed.

* * *

Two visits to the Council in two days was two visits too many. Anakin was sure of it. But at least they’d done one thing right.

“You’re not thinking I’m going to fail this mission?” Anakin demanded, watching the sour look on his master’s face.

Obi-Wan grimaced as he came out of his thoughts and Anakin didn’t like that any better. “I doubt you’ll fail. But I am concerned about this aggressive targeting of the senator. And what the consequences will be if we remove her from Coruscant.”

“You think she should stay?” Anakin didn’t care one way or another as long as no one was stupid enough to try and tell him to stop protecting her. And the Council had actually given him this assignment to do alone. As far as preparing for knighthood, that was a good thing. Right?

“I think we don’t know who hired the killers, and she’s been targeted on Naboo before.” At Anakin’s twitch in the Force, Obi-Wan carefully added, “She didn’t have you then, and she did survive all the attempts. But it would be inconvenient for her to be attacked again.”

Long experience told Anakin not to trust the smooth gloss of his master’s feelings. Obi-Wan could be tricky when he wanted too, and calm wasn’t the same as confident. “You don’t think she’ll be safer on Naboo?”

A sigh, but it didn’t seem directed at Anakin. Maybe. “I think making her disappear for a few days is safest. As long as she is disappearing, Naboo works as well as anywhere else. The problem will be getting her there.”

“It’s not that hard to get room on refugee transports.” Anakin had looked into it a few times when, well, when being at the Temple had been _hard_ (and when he’d seen the desert in his dreams, but couldn’t find his mother…).

Obi-Wan was almost smiling now. “Of course.” And then, “Since this is your assignment, it will be your job to tell the senator the Chancellor’s decision.”

Oh fu-

* * *

The call from Sabé came when Leia was just about to break all sorts of rules about calling people in the middle of the night looking for trouble. It wasn't what she expected.

"He did _what?_ "

" _I'm dealing with things here at the palace. Can you make sure they've covered their bases on her transport?_ "

Leia nibbled her lip, then took the plunge. "If I'm not satisfied, can I have complete authority to reroute?"

" _Yes._ "

The answer came so fast, Leia almost slid off the roof. "You're serious."

" _We tried being reasonable. We tried being rational. We tried being cautious. It's time to try something else._ "

"Something risky?"

" _Whatever it takes._ "

" _And don't look back._ " Leia took a deep breath. "I'll take care of it. I've already got a secure line."

A snort from Sabé. " _Who do you think I am?_ "

* * *

“This. Is. Ridiculous.”

Anakin couldn’t help but agree, but he didn’t think Padmé was referring to the silky dresses she had just shoved into the cases that she would be taking with her. While disguised. As a refugee.

He knew better than to make a comment about the dress she was wearing, though. She’d already told him that after she packed she would change.

“The Council thinks you’ll be safer on Naboo.” He wandered towards the window, keeping himself between her and the repair droids there. Subtly.

“I am so sick and tired,” each word was matched with a jerking motion of her hands as she grabbed, folded, and stowed more garments (it had to be “garments,” those were not normal clothes), “of people telling me it would be better if I were just out of the way. Not _doing_ anything.” More jerky movements. “We’ve been working on fighting this bill for over a year. A year! I was personally put in charge of it and now they’re just…” She groped at the air for a moment, then swung in arm in a gesture that said “banishment” twice as well as any words could. Then she sighed, pinched her nose, shuddered. “Oh. This was how Leia felt. Lovely.”

Anger had morphed so quickly into guilt, Anakin was blindsided. “I’m sure you didn’t mean-“

He stopped at the look in here eyes when she faced him. He couldn’t. Just… couldn’t. “It doesn’t matter what I meant or not. It’s what I did.” Another heavy sigh. “At least she didn’t see me _begging_ to be allowed to do my job.”

Apparently there had been some sort of small coup arranged by Captain Eye-Patch and a similar looking man, who Anakin almost remembered, on Naboo. A security personnel only meeting that hadn’t even had the rumored Sabé, who would eat Anakin alive if she ever caught him in Padmé’s rooms, lucky it had been Dormé (and seriously, he’d been _saving_ her) who had been the one to catch him. And the meeting had been all about, well let’s get you off planet quick before they have time to catch us running away with you.

And in principle, Anakin agreed but…

He also understood Padmé. He thought. “Don’t worry, now that Obi-Wan is allowed to investigate, he’ll catch the culprit in no time.”

“Two days?” Padmé asked, already shaking her head. “I have every faith in Master Kenobi’s abilities, but that… I can’t depend on that kind of miracle.”

Okay, that was fair. “I could help him.”

That earned an eyebrow, and he couldn’t help but smile. “While you’re on Naboo, protecting me?”

“Why not? There has to be something that I can do.”

She hummed for a moment, and the focus in her feelings was its own kind of relief. “Maybe you can talk to Leia. She’s already been doing some of her own investigating. And then there’s what I’ve got from Artoo. If we tug from two directions…”

“It’s worth a try,” Anakin was really smiling now, glad that the atmosphere had brightened. Although, “I don’t know how easy it will be to work with Leia.”

“She’s quick,” Padmé was folding things again, still with sharp movements, but this was focus, not anger. “She won’t have any trouble keeping up with you.”

He got the impression, half from her shimmering feelings and half from her sidelong look, that she thought he would be the slow one. “Good. Because there won’t be any point in me helping if I have to keep waiting on her.”

And what was that look? “I seriously doubt you’ll have to worry about that.” And then, “No one told you about her?”

It was a careful question, laced with sympathy, he thought, and hesitance. He didn’t want to talk about it, but if Padmé asked, he could only answer. “Obi-Wan did, after yesterday. Not… he didn’t say much.”

“There’s not much to say,” Padmé admitted, staring at the bed. “I don’t really know that much about what happened, and Shmi told you about how she and Leia made it to Naboo.”

A short version. He still had questions, especially about Cliegg Lars. He knew his mom. He knew Tatooine. He could only be glad she’d gotten out of there. “Do you know why she’s here?”

No, that wasn’t the right question. Was it?

Padmé frowned. “Leia has goals for what she’d like to accomplish by working with the Senate. I think she’s on Naboo and working with us because Shmi liked it there, Leia feels responsible for her, and she also agrees with our politics. For the most part.” A shrug. “Sorry, I know that’s not very useful.”

No, but at least he knew Leia cared about his mom. Hopefully. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to see how it works out.”

"Obi-Wan got along with her," Padmé said, poking at the contents of her case, frowning. "I think if she can walk circles around him, you'll probably be okay."

Walk circles around Obi-Wan? That wasn't how his master had put it. Although, he wouldn't have. "Her getting along with Obi-Wan doesn't mean we'll get along," he said instead.

That startled her. "You… don't like Obi-Wan?"

"No, that's not-" Anakin huffed, turning to the window. He couldn't press his face against it, hope the glass stole some of the heat from his feelings. He needed to focus. There were decorations on the sill. He lifted them with the Force, spinning them in a half tilted orbit around him. "We don't always agree on things, but I do lo- like him."

He couldn't look at her face, so he wasn't sure what she was thinking when she said, "Do you disagree a lot?"

"Yeah," Anakin mumbled. "More now than-" He swallowed, burying the hurt. He couldn't let it get out, hurt Padmé. "He doesn't think I'm ready to be knighted. He keeps saying things, things I have to learn, that weren't important before. I used to agree with him, about the Jedi, and the Force. Now…"

"He surprises you," Padmé said, and he still couldn't look at her, but he could feel her sympathy reaching out to him. "And not in ways you wanted."

"I know I have a lot to learn," Anakin tried to pull back. "He's not wrong about that. It's just… he tells me that and then won't let me learn it. He’ll tell me I don't know enough and then he won't give me space, let me try new things. Gets angry when I do it."

At least, that was how it felt. Obi-Wan was angry about something, Anakin knew. He wasn't sure if it was directed _at_ him in those moments, or at something (or someone) else, but the Chancellor had told Anakin to trust his instincts, and-

"It's hard," Padmé agreed, "when our mentors disappoint us. Sometimes… we outgrow them."

At least she understood that. "I do still like him," Anakin said, placing everything back as carefully as he could. He was calm now. "Sometimes, when he's not being all profound and stuffy, he can be really fun." And then his eyes burned, because, "I miss that."

Padmé had come over next to him, had set her hand on his arm, so he couldn't avoid looking at her now. And now, with her this close, on purpose, he could give her his full attention, look his fill. Just… see her. Right next to him.

Her expression shifted from sympathetic to frowning just as her comm went off. Anakin took a step back as she answered with a cheerful, “Hello, Leia. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

Oh great. Seriously?

“ _Sabé beat me to murdering Panaka, so I’m left with the consolation prize of commiserating with you. How are you doing?_ ”

There was a pause as Padmé’s eyes flicked to him for a moment. “Oh, you know me. Dutiful daughter of Naboo. I never complain.”

“ _This is a terrible idea and it’s going to get you killed. I have a better one._ ”

Anakin did not like her tone, and Padmé seemed uneasy too. He stepped into the line of the call to loom ominously. At least, he hoped that was what he was doing. She didn’t seem surprised to see him. Or that impressed.

What was wrong with her?

“We’ve already made plans-“

Leia cut Padmé off with a sharp gesture. “ _They’re ruining your hard-won politics because they’re reacting, not thinking._ ” She paused, sounded pained. “ _Please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing on a refugee ship._ ”

Anakin was glad he was standing behind Padmé so she couldn’t see him smile a bit, but given how embarrassed she felt, he was probably missing her blush, which was… well. “No. I had another outfit picked out.”

“ _Picked out. From your wardrobe?_ ” Padmé nodded and there was something between a sigh and a whine from the call as Leia buried her face in her hands. “ _Padmé, you do not own a single piece of clothing that won’t make you stick out like a sore thumb around refugees._ ” Her gaze found Anakin. “ _And is that what he’s wearing?_ ”

Padmé turned to look up at him, not knowing, and that was kind of nice because she was really close again and maybe he took just one second to enjoy it before he answered, “I have something else. Pulled out of storage. We keep things at the Temple that we might need for missions, for ourselves or people who need help.”

“ _Normal clothes_?” she stressed, and Anakin nodded, making sure not to look at Padmé so he could be serious.

“I’d pass as successful if not profitable merchant on… Tatooine,” he picked, hoping she knew it well enough. “Or close enough.”

And she did seem to know what that meant because she just nodded at him. “ _Right, Anakin knows how to dress like a normal, mid-level human. What are you going to do?_ ”

Padmé nearly bumped into him as she shifted. “We don’t exactly have time for me to go shopping.”

That was a groan. Full throated and with a head shake. “ _I’ll talk to Shmi, she has to have contacts. You can’t- If you’re coming here, that means an RRM transport, right?_ ”

“Yes,” Padmé seemed uneasy suddenly.

“ _The same RRM that had several of its board members caught in an explosion. On Naboo._ ”

Anakin did not like where this was going. “We can arrange another-“

“Not to Naboo,” Padmé cut him off, rubbing her forehead. “Leia, the Jedi Council has already decided, and the Chancellor ordered-“

“ _Ignore him_ ,” Leia said, and Anakin stiffened with anger. “ _He can say he wants to protect you all he wants. If that’s his goal, he should leave this to the experts._ ”

“The Jedi-“ Padmé began again.

“ _Are being stupid. If they want you to disappear, they either have to take you somewhere no one would ever guess you would go, which means all of Naboo is out, or somewhere so inconvenient to look for you it will take more effort than they can manage in two days to find you._ ”

“We don't have time to find a place like that," Padmé sighed. "Leia, I know-"

" _What exactly is your mandate?_ " Leia was looking at him now, and Anakin wasn't prepared for the shift.

"Uh, to protect the senator." Oh great, _that_ sounded professional.

Leia nodded. " _Do you think you'll be able to do that, to your fullest capacity, on Naboo?_ "

"Master Obi-Wan said it's as good as anywhere," Anakin recited before wincing. He was in charge here, not Obi-Wan. "But he did say it would be hard to move us safely, and I agree. I just don't have anywhere else to go."

It wasn't like he knew anywhere other than the Jedi Temp- Actually, that would be a great idea. If the Jedi were even remotely flexible enough to allow it.

Probably not.

" _I have a simple solution for where to go_ ," Leia said, somehow catching both of them in her gaze. Neat trick, he'd seen Master Koon do that. " _As long as you feel like your mandate allows for a bit of… creative interpretation of instructions_."

Oh, he did like that look. That was the look of someone who knew how to have _fun._ "How creative are we getting?"

" _We'll need to keep this a secret from everyone else,_ " Leia, and now her focus was back on him. "Everyone."

"Except Artoo," Padmé objected.

" _Except Artoo_ ," Leia agreed. " _And Shmi. We'll need her help and her contacts._ "

His mom? Anakin looked between the two of the, baffled. "What does she-"

"We're going to reroute on one of the refugee ships?" Padmé asked, and Leia just smiled.

" _Even better. Get Artoo in there and set up your scrambler. This is going to get interesting._ "

"We don't need a-"

" _Humor me_ ," Leia said, and Anakin watched as Padmé huffed, rolled her eyes, and then did what Leia told her.

Weird. "What am I going to do?”

“ _Keep your mouth shut,_ ” was her immediate answer, and okay, that was just a little pretentious. “ _And get ready to do exactly what I tell you._ ”


	43. Off the Leash

“Do you think he’ll do?” Leia asked when Padmé’s relaxed posture said Anakin had left.

“ _He’s been standing between me and the window most of the time he was in here._ ”

“Well, I’m sure you look prettier when you’re not backlit.”

That was an eye roll. Leia was almost relieved to see it. “ _There were droids up here, fixing my window._ ” The one that Obi-Wan had _thrown himself out of_ to grab a droid in mid-air and get carried away into Coruscanti traffic. Leia and Luke were still giggling about that one, and Leia had no plans to let Obi-Wan live it down. “ _He was being cautious. He’s not inattentive_.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s paying attention.”

“ _Leia…_ ”

Right, she needed to reign it in. If she didn’t, she’d have to explain her unfounded dislike of Anakin Skywalker, especially in the teeth of all the nice things Shmi and Padmé always said about him, and explaining time travel was still not an option. Besides, it wasn’t like Anakin’s attention to Padmé was going to get him anywhere. “Does it bother you? I have plenty of tricks for getting guys to stop staring and get back to work.”

She wished she could say she’d only ever used them on Han, or strangers. But there were a couple she had perfected for handling Luke. If Padmé saw Anakin as more of an innocent, floundering admirer.

Leia did not.

“ _No, it’s fine. Actually it’s… kind of nice?_ _Don’t tell him I said that._ ”

There was a part of Leia’s brain that processed those words logically. That said, Padmé was stressed, she’d been feeling beaten and unwanted. It was reassuring to have uncomplicated, unwavering admiration. Stabilizing even. Teenage crushes being directed at you was not an inherently bad thing.

Another part of Leia… twisted.

Since she couldn’t get a handle on it, couldn’t wrap her mind around it to figure out what it was and why exactly it bothered her, Leia let it go. Tucked it away into a corner of her brain to figure out on another day.

“I won’t.”

When she didn’t hang up, Padmé asked Leia, “ _Should you be seeing Shmi?”_

“Oh, I, uh…” Actually she’d gotten her grandmother’s attention and made her requests already, through the Force. Shmi was working on them and should be done soon. Hopefully. But Leia wasn’t about to admit to being Force sensitive, to _Shmi_ being sensitive, even on a secured comm line. “It’s still a bit early here.”

Padmé frowned. “ _You won’t have much time._ ”

“We’ll have enough. You worry about you, and getting to safety without dragging a politically unblooded, trainee Jedi into a sordid love scandal right before the biggest vote of your political career to date.”

It was funny to see Padmé’s face caught between laughter and horror. “ _Don’t worry. If I’m going to allow rumors like that to start, I’ll at least make sure I get something out of it._ ”

“I did not need to know that,” Leia said, which did make Padmé laugh.

“ _Since when are you prudish?_ ”

Since, since- No. That thought was still too twisted and wired to grab hold of. But Leia had a much better idea of what it might be now and was not sure she liked it. “Can I talk to Artoo for a minute? I have an idea and I’ll need his help.”

“ _I don’t get to know what it is?_ ”

Given that Leia wasn’t sure it would work and didn’t want to get Padmé’s hopes up, “It’s a surprise. A good one,” she added at Padmé’s grimace.

“ _I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.”_

* * *

It was hard to admit, but half of the reason that Anakin was staring at Padmé right now was because she was wearing the outfit she had picked out as her best option for in transit as a refugee, and it… It wasn’t exactly…

He understood why Leia had laughed. Even if it was rude.

“Be careful, mi’lady,” Captain Eye-Patch was saying, as the train was coming to a stop. “Make sure you stay safe.”

Anakin tried not to roll his eyes. That was the _whole point_ of him being here.

“I will,” Padmé said, and Anakin thought her eyes sparkled a bit, even as she answered seriously. “Thank you, Captain. And you’ll make sure Dormé stays safe?”

“Of course,” the captain replied, even more serious than Padmé.

“And you’ll make sure Leia stays out of trouble?”

At her arch look Anakin had to swallow his mirth in the Force and bit his lips on a giggle. It was even better when Captain Eye-Patch’s face pinched. “I’m sure Captain Panaka has things well in hand on Naboo. We’ll make sure she doesn’t take any drastic steps to make herself a target here.”

“Good.” And it seemed like Padmé had actually been serious, not just baiting her guard. Why was everyone so worried about Leia? “Use your best judgement,” Padmé was saying to Dormé. “Whatever you need to do to stay safe, do it.”

“You’re going to regret that when I get creative,” Dormé said, and she smiled for a moment, looking to the captain, but when she turned back to Padmé her face fell, and a tear escaped. Anakin almost flinched at the sudden pain.

“I have faith in you,” Padmé said, her fingers reaching out and just brushing the handmaiden’s. “You’ll be fine.”

A split second half smile. “I’m not worried about us.”

Something happened then, something Anakin hadn’t expected. He and Obi-Wan were the only Force users in the train car. Padmé wasn’t Force sensitive, and Dormé definitely wasn’t. But it was as if something around them twisted, and in that moment they shared something between them. Not with words, but with trust and experience.

Anakin loved it when that happened. He didn’t get to see it often, and almost never outside the Temple. But there was a rightness to it. Like being pulled into a hug by his mother, or the songs their neighbors used to sing together. Not magic, not mystic. Just… being.

“I’ll try to keep up,” Dormé was saying, “but if I make too many appearances they’ll know you’ve left the capital.”

“That’s what Jar Jar’s for,” Padmé said. “To be your cover. He’ll consult with you, you’ll pretend on audio lines to be me. You can do this.”

“I know.”

There were a hundred things not being said in those words, and so many things being spoken in Dormé’s eyes.

“Anakin.” He turned towards his master, wishing he could keep following the other conversation. “You be careful too. Don’t do anything without first consulting either myself or the Council.”

Right, as if that were practical. But Anakin knew what was expected and his, “Yes, master,” was all Obi-Wan needed before he was turning to Padmé.

“I’ll try and get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible, mi’lady” he told her. “I know you and your people are in need of justice.”

“And speed,” Padmé insisted, nodding. “Thank you. I know you’ll do your best.”

“You’ll be back here in no time,” Obi-Wan promised. “And then you can let Leia off her leash without fretting about it.”

Padmé was grinning. "I think we're talking about different people again."

Obi-Wan just smiled.

"It's time to go," Anakin said, watching the people loading onto the ship. They needed to hurry. There was only a small window where they could pull this off.

"I know," Padmé was composed, nothing showing in her face. It made it easier for Anakin to stay calm, to lot let off a hint of what they were doing that Obi-Wan might catch.

"Anakin." Oh no, had he slipped? Anakin turned to face his master. "May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you, Master." And let it help Obi-Wan catch these people before Anakin was subjected to another of Leia's plans. He was starting to get jitters.

They were off the train, just out of earshot of the guards, but not Obi-Wan if he was determined, when Padmé said, "Suddenly I'm afraid."

Scrambling for something, they didn't have a code and he couldn't _say_ he thought Obi-Wan might still be listening, "It's alright. It's my first time away from my master for an assignment." Lie, but he thought the look she shot him conveyed that she understood. "I'm nervous too." That was true. When they were far enough it should be safe he added, "Don't worry, we have Artoo with us."

She actually laughed.

Now for the tricky part.

They boarded the ship at the first open hatch, had their documents scanned (there would be a trail, if there was a leak it would look like they'd gone along with the original plan), and instead of heading for the lifts down, Anakin maneuvered them sideways, towards a hatch further along, halting them at the exit, tucked where they wouldn’t interfere with the line.

They were cutting it close. They had to move soon or the hatch would close (and Leia might kill him, and Jedi training or not sometimes he thought she'd find it easy to do) and all of this extra planning would have been for nothing.

He'd promised Padmé he’d make it work. He wouldn't fail.

"Now."

It was a half whisper, but he could feel that Obi-Wan's attention had turned, shifted from being focused on Anakin's presence. Hopefully the train was getting ready to move.

They made it off the ship and Anakin had them stop behind some empty storage containers, waiting until the train had pulled fully away (taking no chances, Obi-Wan would definitely look back) before having them head to the shadows around the corner of the platform. They tried to move at the crowd's pace, like Leia had coached them, while sticking close to the wall and avoiding any attention.

Luckily Anakin was taller than Padmé and he could partially cover her.

Unluckily they had a droid with them. Leia was right. As useful as Artoo was, he was in too good of condition to belong to a refugee. Especially as an astromech. Who had their own astromech and not their own ship? Or other property that required maintenance?

Their ship took off behind them and Anakin knew even if they weren't safe, they were committed.

"You're Shmi's people?"

The question came from a human female, closely followed by a female Zabrak, who eyed the crowed around them with clear mistrust. Her focus and her stance told Anakin she was here as much as protection for the first woman as to help them.

"Yes," Anakin answered, offering a half bow and extending his hand. "I'm her son."

Which had both women looking more confused and uncomfortable for a moment before the Zabrak shrugged and the human nodded. "Come with us."

Artoo may have been the slowest, but the women set a pace he could match and Anakin took advantage of that to drop to the back, letting the Zabrak watch their front as she led them. The human woman fell into step with Padmé, not speaking but offering an arm. Anakin was grateful. It eased some of Padmé's tension and made it easier for Anakin to sense what danger might be around them.

"In here."

It looked like, well not an abandoned building. No buildings were abandoned on Coruscant. But this one didn't seem completely structurally sound, and was definitely very dirty. The lift they entered was small and cramped with the five of them. Artoo chirped profanities at the state of things, especially when the lift jerked awkwardly about halfway down. Padmé was startled enough to grab Anakin, but their guides only oozed irritation, not surprise.

Not an uncommon feature then.

Their path wound on probably for about another hour. It seemed very circuitous, looping around buildings with more lights and noises, wending through back alleys and tripping further and further down. Padmé was almost visibly sagging by the time they made it to a door (off a side road, not a main one) where the women stopped and keyed in a code.

Anakin knew then that they didn't understand binary. Artoo's comments about how easy it would be to break in were completely inappropriate. Anakin told him so, also in binary. Which earned him some looks, even from Padmé.

"What?"

She blinked. "I didn't know-"

"Inside, flirt later." The Zabrak woman didn't look amused, but Anakin felt like she might be so he grinned. Padmé may have been blushing, it was hard to tell in the dim light.

Inside there were probably twenty people in the front room, mostly women and children of various species. Halls and doors were faint in the background, but Anakin was busy searching with the Force rather than with his eyes. When he determined that there wasn't any immediate threat he nodded to Padmé who nodded back, but seemed more than a little lost.

"We were told almost nothing," the human woman said, after introducing herself as Hailee, and her partner as Oobra. "But we have your change of clothes and will help with the droid."

At that Artoo whistled nervously, something about Leia getting carried away. Anakin asked Hailee, "What can we do to help?" hoping to get more details.

Hailee shook her head. "It will go faster if we take him. Don't worry," she added, seeing the look on Padmé's face. "He will be returned, and with all of his working pieces."

"Can he keep the broken ones too?" Anakin asked, aiming for an impish smile. He hoped it was covering Padmé's embarrassed look. "I like to collect those and make little speeders out of them."

Oobra smiled at that and Hailee hid her mouth behind her hand, her eyes dancing. "Yes, we will bring you the broken pieces too."

Good. He wasn't kidding about the mini-speeders. He wouldn't get in trouble for making them here and giving them to some of these kids. Some Jedi had no sense of humor about small gadgets getting caught in trailing robes.

Including his master.

Padmé was led away by Oobra and one of the other women in the room and Anakin was invited to sit near the wall after his clothing was closely inspected by one of the room’s matrons and given a thoughtfully approving nod.

He was glad he'd gone for the poncho with the stain on it.

A few of the kids wandered up to him and it had been a while since he'd had to translate between four languages at once to follow a conversation, but after a few minutes he picked up the hang of it again. He delighted them by responding to each of them in their own tongue, instead of using Basic, and had two on his lap, tugging at his Padawan braid when Padmé was led back into the room.

He recognized her because he'd seen her on Tatooine, dressed as a commoner, all those years ago, and because she was a light in the Force that he was always able to pinpoint when he was looking for it. But her fancy dress was gone and her hair was mostly down and he didn't _think_ they'd actually rubbed dirt or grease on her face, but she seemed smudgy.

They'd taken her makeup off, he realized. And they hadn't worried about leaving stains and smears with it.

She'd gone from looking like a pristine statue, all wrapped and gilded in courage and fine robes, crowned with confidence, to looking almost like she had ten years ago, when she was just a displaced queen and he was… not who he was now.

This time, he wouldn't just help her. This time he would keep her safe.

Her fingers were rubbing the hem of her sleeves and Hailee led her over, a calm kindness radiating off of her. "Here she is. We have a transport for you, for the next stage. You won't be traveling far. You’re to be within two hours of the Senate building, in case of emergency." Her tone was reciting a message, one she didn't really understand. "We have a place prepared, as was asked."

"Thank you," Anakin said, extracting himself from the pile of children who complained that he was going. "Is there anything-"

“Compensation has been seen to," Oobra said solemnly. "Anything you do not need or want can be left at your residence when you are finished. We will take care of it."

He’d make sure to leave something for the kids, Anakin promised himself. They were playing games with each other, pretend stuff with little dolls and some well-worn figures. A few, maybe two people, had old datapads that flickered in ways Anakin wished he had time to fix. "We're very grateful," he said as they were led out of the house, through a back door this time, to a waiting speeder that Anakin wished, again, he could have fifteen minutes with. He knew what those noises meant, they didn't even need replacement parts yet…

Padmé gasped under her breath when Artoo rolled out, painted yellow and brown and streaked with dirt and grease stains. When he got really close, Anakin could see something that imitated rust on some of his joints.

Anakin liked these people. They were thorough.

"Travel safely," Hailee said once Artoo had been loaded. It may have been directed to him and Padmé or the driver. Anakin wasn't sure.

They were dropped off another level or two down on the side of a building that was speckled with doors. They were given an access card and made their way down a hallway lined with yet more doors, all battered and filthy.

If it wasn't to protect Padmé's life, Anakin would never have brought her here. He wasn't sure he should have brought her here anyway. Surely there was somewhere better.

"We should get inside," Padmé whispered, eyes drifting to the other doors, scanning them for any sign someone was watching.

"Right," Anakin said, and he reached out with the Force, confirming there was no one inside, before opening the door.


	44. Diagnosis

Anakin had expected an empty room and was surprised when they stepped in and several crates were scattered across the floor. They made him hesitate.

"Stand in the corner," he told Padmé, pointing to where a half wall created some cover for a kitchenette. "I need to check this."

"Leia wouldn't-"

"We don't know why they're here," he said, stepping forward, reaching out with his senses as best as he could. The Force could help him find ill intention easily, but machines didn't usually project those sorts of things. He could find the right kinds of explosives if the way they stored energy was active enough, but he wasn't getting anything from the boxes. “She might not have left them.”

Couldn’t have dropped them off personally, in any event. So he did need to make sure there weren’t any unexpected surprises.

There was a note on top of one of the crates and Anakin called it over, not willing to get closer yet. It read, “Thought you might need something to keep you occupied while you’re locked up. And he needs help.”

What?

“What is it?” Padmé asked, and he could tell she was trying not to be impatient. He read her the note, but she seemed as confused as he was.

Artoo, though. Artoo trilled, and zipped in a small circle, all but shouting, “I know it! I know it! She did promise. She did!”

“What?” Anakin asked, trying not to trip in the small space. “Artoo, she promised what?”

“Threepio!” the droid beeped.

Anakin blinked. “Threepio?”

“Oh.” Padmé’s sudden burst of hope as she looked towards the crates was distracting enough Anakin almost missed her saying, “She must have sent him.”

“In pieces?” Anakin was horrified. “Why would she-“

But Padmé was blanching, and he hadn’t meant- She opened her mouth, to try and explain he thought, but the words never came. After a moment, she gestured and Anakin turned back to the crates, taking another hesitant step forward.

Open them with the Force and try and redirect any surprises, or inspect the box up close?

In the end, he opted for up close, running his fingers over everything, checking at different angles. If there was something hidden, it was completely inside. There was a faint smell of smoke, he thought. Almost like a grease fire, but also charred wires and-

Padmé’s ship had blown up. The only reason Padmé wasn’t dead was because Padmé hadn’t been on it.

Hole into eternity open in the bottom of his stomach, Anakin eased the lid off the first crate and had to fight back tears at what he saw inside. Part of an arm, a cracked and blasted torso, half a foot. And that was just the bits he could see on top.

“He was in the explosion,” Anakin whispered, picking the foot up, running his thumb along the scorched, warped metal. “He was on your ship.”

“Shmi wanted him to come with us. To help keep an eye on things.” Anakin didn’t need to look to know guilt was written all over her face. “We tried to have him looked at after, but everyone we consulted… They said he was too customized. They didn’t recognize any of his inner layout.”

Well, yeah. Anakin had built him to be functional on Tatooine, not in ballrooms. You had to move certain pieces around to make sure they wouldn’t overheat each other, and then there was the wiring, insulated differently and mismatched because he’d been hunting for scraps out of Watto’s junk pile, the stuff he was sure they couldn’t sell, would never be useful. Not to mention the little extra bits Anakin had added to fix broken parts, or upgrade them.

Also, Threepio’d been reconstructed when Anakin was _nine_.

“Is this all of him?” Anakin asked, unwilling to look back in the crate.

Padmé came over, knelt next to him on the floor. “I don’t know. Leia didn’t tell me she was doing this. I know we had all of the pieces of him that we could find collected and kept at the apartment. I assume she arranged for all of them to be sent here.”

Her hand was on his shoulder. It was warm and kind and Anakin made himself look up and smile at her, knowing the look was more brave than happy and not caring about that right now. “If she did, I can probably at least get started on fixing him.”

He wasn’t sure he would get very far. This was a lot of pieces, all of them seriously damaged. He’d need replacements for a lot of it. And tools…

“I should check the other crates,” he said, standing and offering her a hand. She accepted and he pulled her straight up, so that she would still be right next to him. “And the other rooms. If they’re safe, you can stand in one until I’ve got everything cleared.”

Not a grimace, not quite a frown, but Padmé didn’t look enthusiastic. “Are you sure that’s necessary? We already know that Leia sent these, and what’s in them.”

Anakin nodded. “They got explosives onto your ship. I have to check.”

He would do this job right. Padmé’s life was at stake and Obi-Wan thought it might sway the Council to think about knighting him and-

He checked the other two rooms. They were small, tiny really. One had a bed and maybe an arm’s length of space on three sides of the thing, the other was the refresher and Anakin thought it only looked mildly suspect. He let Padmé pick which one she preferred for waiting and was zero percent surprised when she picked the bedroom.

None of the other boxes exploded on him when he opened them. Which was nice.

“I didn’t think he took up this much space,” Padmé commented when she came back out. “It doesn’t look like there’s a lot of packing material either.”

“He’s covering a bunch of other stuff,” Anakin said, refusing to think too hard as he removed different sections of the droid and laid them carefully on the floor. “Some of it’s food. Sort of.”

Travel rations and instant meals. Not the good stuff either. The stuff you got when it was just you and your master and you weren’t part of an official negotiating team where you got real food because all politicians had weak stomachs.

Well, he hoped not all of them. He didn’t exactly have anything else to offer Padmé if she couldn’t eat this. “Did she think you can’t cook?”

“Maybe,” Padmé said. “I don’t really talk about it. And I don’t do it much anymore. Leia can’t cook, so I don’t know that she would know what to send aside from this.”

“She can’t cook at all?” Anakin couldn’t imagine it. Hadn’t she come from the Outer Rim? You had to at least know the basics so that you could tell if someone was cooking something that wasn’t safe for your species. “How does she survive?”

Padmé giggled as she took a seat on the (dubiously creaking) couch. “Shmi helps her. I think she’s learning, but she won’t talk about it. I can only imagine-“ Padmé stopped, shrugged. “She’d rather not talk about it.”

“At least she knows droids okay,” he muttered as he started sorting through some of the other things in the crate. Apparently Leia’d had it stocked with all sorts of bits and pieces, plenty of spare wires, and a very well assembled tool kit. “Although, I think there’s twice as much stuff in here as what we need.”

Artoo was happy to explain that they hadn’t known the details of the damage and had erred on the side of safety. Anakin nodded, and then smiled. He could make a bunch of little toys from the extras, he thought.

“I don’t suppose she left anything for me in there?” Padmé asked as Anakin was just starting to pull apart the wrecked metal of Threepio’s chest. He blinked, already half lost in ideas of what he needed to do, then blushed, because really? How could he forget Padmé when she was _right there_?

“I don’t see anything,” Anakin said, peering inside. “Wait, no. There’s a datapad.” He tossed it over, catching it again in the Force when Padmé almost dropped it. “Sorry.”

She just smiled, grabbing it out of the air after studying it curiously for a moment. “No, I missed it. Thank you.”

He decided to wait a few minutes to see if she needed anything else before going back to his task.

“Oh for the love of-“ Padmé sounded irritated, but her lips were fighting a smile.

“What?”

“Novels,” Padmé sighed. “She left me some of our notes on the MCA too, to keep me refreshed. But most of this is,” she hesitated, and this time Anakin did get to see her blushing, “romance novels.”

Anakin stared. “What?”

He had to stop saying that. He wouldn’t sound smart if he kept saying just that.

“And a note that I am apparently to treat this as a forced vacation, and not only read the work documents,” Padmé did not bother to explain more about the stories that Leia had left her, but her avoidance told Anakin most of what he needed to know.

“Do you like them?” he asked, trying to decide if he should be offended on her behalf. Leia was being pretty high handed in all of this.

A shrug. “I don’t mind them, but I usually read historical records in my free time, especially about political figures from allied systems. I’m pretty young for a senator and I don’t know as much about the history of my colleagues as I would like.”

She was uncomfortable as she said it, as if it was reminding her of something she didn’t want to think about. So Anakin opted for the first distraction he could think of and asked, “What’s your favorite?”

“I don’t have one,” Padmé confessed. “They’re all interesting in terms of content, but the presentation is usually very dry. Although,” she scrolled a bit and smiled at the screen, “it looks like Leia has selected historical, _political_ romances for me to read. So maybe this will be educational and interesting.”

He’d have to take her word for it. Anakin liked reading, liked learning, but he’d always preferred that any stories were spoken and signed, rather than just written down. You were missing something when someone didn’t put their voice, their body, into the tale. “Are you- Is it okay if I focus on this for a while? If you’re reading?”

He felt unsure again. The morning had been a tight dance of lying to and escaping from Obi-Wan, which had given all of this the taste of an adventure. He’d planned to be hyper-vigilant, all of his focus on Padmé and their surroundings at all times, no mistakes.

Now…

Now Threepio needed to be repaired, and he felt much safer in the anonymity of this frankly disgusting apartment than he had as they had approached the refugee ship. It felt like they had actually escaped from danger, that all they had to do now was to spend a couple of days waiting before Padmé returned to do her job. It should be easy, maybe even nice.

But Padmé’s comfort and safety came first, and if she needed his attention…

“Take a look at Threepio,” she insisted. “I doubt you can get him all back together in two days, but it’s worth a try. And if he’s even only in partly working condition, having him would be a big help.” She smiled, and everything in the room went warm with the light of it. “I’m glad Leia thought of this. You’re definitely the best person to try and fix him.”

Well, if she needed Threepio, the droid _Anakin_ had built, he would definitely start the repairs. Especially since, “I think I can at least get him pieced together and moving in two days. I’ve got enough spare parts, which wasn’t true when I built him, and plenty of free time.”

“You do that,” she didn’t believe him, but was willing to humor him. Anakin knew what to do with a challenge like that. “I’ll start on some of these and see if they’re any good.”

He’d just found his focus when he heard the first of her giggles. He glanced up, but she wasn’t looking at him, so probably she didn’t want to share.

The second and third time he was a little irritated, but she was happy and so Anakin made himself settled down again and refocus.

The fourth time Padmé burst out laughing, almost doubled over, actual tears in the corners of her eyes as she almost choked.

“That good?” he asked, half sighing and trying not to sound whiny.

She shook her head. “Oh no, it’s… it’s awful. Unbelievably awful.”

“And that makes it funny?” It sort of made sense, but he wouldn’t have expected her to laugh this much.

Padmé sat up and primly recited the most atrocious description of a Trandoshan, apparently from the perspective of someone who found him salaciously appealing, Anakin had ever been forced to process. It had been written by someone who had clearly never met a Trandoshan and did not do nearly enough research into their culture or biology. It was appalling, and because of the way Padmé was reading it, it was also hilarious.

“Stop,” he begged, his sides hurting from trying not to laugh. “Please, just stop.”

“You don’t want to know why this fine and unattainable specimen has caught the attention of our impressionable, highly reliable narrator?” She almost made it through the sentence with a straight face, but not quite. Anakin couldn’t stop his giggles.

“I thought this was a story about politics.”

“Oh it is,” Padmé’s smile was bright and happy, and her look was adorably conspiratorial as she leaned forward and said, “but I’d have to read you those bits too. I can’t do them justice.”

Anakin looked at the mess that was in front of him, thought about the previous moments where he had been thinking about Threepio, about how he had been damaged and how it would have happened and how it must have hurt and been so frightening. And how that made it hard to focus on just fixing him.

“Do you want to read it out loud?” It would be awful, and it would take him a bit more time to find the right rhythm, the right tenor in the Force to let him work and listen at the same time. But if Padmé was going to be giggling over fantastically awful literature the whole time anyway, it was probably better to join a lost cause than fight it.

“Really?” she asked, and seemed hesitant. “I mean, I can’t promise it won’t get worse. Or better.”

“I like listening to you,” Anakin said, and had to look away, had to pick at the wires in his lap, because he’d meant to say it better than that. “I like hearing stories, and you can… you can really read.”

_How_ had he actually managed to get _worse_? In _one sentence_?

“Okay,” Padmé said, not quite believing him, but getting more comfortable on the couch again. “I’ll just start from the beginning.”

Anakin nodded rather than looking at her and trusting his traitor mouth. How did Obi-Wan make talking to people always look so easy?

* * *

“You had no right-“

Captain Panaka’s almost scream was cut off by Sabé’s dangerously even, “I gave her permission to adjust the plans as needed.” It was so cold and sharp other members of the Council flinched.

Leia wished they weren’t speaking to the full Advisory Council. The queen, she trusted, and even Captain Panaka, although he would probably tell Captain Typho, who would probably give it away, at least to the Chancellor, by sheer irrepressible emotive panic.

“What are the plans now?” Advisor Vancil seemed remote and collected, but the way his steepled fingers tapped against each other gave Leia pause. Thoughtful, or conniving?

“You’ve _rerouted_ her without consulting-“ Panaka was cut off again, this time by a gesture from the queen. It wasn’t sharp, just the gentlest raising of her hand, one finger held up in a slight curve. She didn’t even look at the captain, just at Sabé and Leia, the closest thing to a frown Leia had ever seen on her face.

“You’re deliberately limiting the number of people with access to her location?” the queen asked, no particular inflection to the question to suggest either suspicion or real curiosity. Just a confirmation of fact.

Leia nodded rather than trusting herself to speak when Sabé didn’t answer.

The queen considered the two of them for a minute, silent and calm, her gaze slightly unfocused, almost as if she was seeing through them. “We will table the matter of Senator Amidala’s security for the time being,” she said, and Captain Panaka spluttered a faint protest. “If we are asked, she arrived as planned, and has been moved to a safe location which we are unable to disclose. For safety reasons. Although,” and her thoughtful tone took on an edge that Leia hadn’t heard before, “I hope our friends are wise enough not to ask.”

It occurred to Leia that Queen Jamillia was still _very angry_ about people being blown up on her planet. And no one taking responsibility for it so that the perpetrator would be caught. She still held most of her placidity, turning the conversation to other important matters and soothing her council, who, in turn, did manage to have a productive meeting. About swamp sludge and its inconveniences and uses.

Very dull, but Leia had no regrets about them staying when she and Sabé were invited to follow the queen and her handmaidens out of the room.

Leia was even more impressed when the queen didn’t speak until they had been led back into her chambers, all the way to her dressing room, where the handmaidens did a very thorough check for bugs before the queen settled down in front of her vanity, saying, “You believe we have a leak in our security detail.”

It was an almost heartbroken statement, enough that Leia tried to sooth it with, “I think there’s a leak somewhere and Padmé is involved in the Senate, not just with Naboo. And it’s difficult but not impossible to intercept our messages. If someone is interested.”

The handmaidens were removing the queen’s elaborate hair pieces, her jewelry and shoes, with a tender efficiency that had Leia almost jealous. She’d never _needed_ someone to fully dress her, although she’d had plenty of help with her hair, especially when she was young. The casual intimacy of it in combination with the fact that Queen Jamillia had not dismissed these women spoke volumes of her love and trust for them.

And explained the trust she gave Sabé, and by extension Leia, when it came to Padmé.

“Four attacks,” Queen Jamillia said softly, standing to be extracted from outer layers, watching Sabé and Leia in her mirror. “Each with Senator Amidala present, once with Leia, once with members of the Advisory Council and RRM, once with just Padmé’s staff, once her alone. Four times.”

In only two months Leia realized. It was… an absurdly high number. “They don’t want her at the vote.”

“She won’t be,” Queen Jamillia said, then blinked at the look on Leia’s face. Which wasn’t fair. Leia hadn’t so much as twitched. The queen smiled. “Given that she is expected to be on Naboo, if excluding her from the vote was their intention, it is a great pity that they will still get what they want.”

Her tone was even, her words precise, but her eyes were dancing with a laugh. Leia almost grinned. “The senator is technically still present on Coruscant,” Leia said, not naming Dormé because even if you’d checked for bugs, you couldn’t be sure. “Taking great risk in the course of her duty.”

“She is unwavering and brave,” Queen Jamillia was still smiling, but her voice held more sorrow now. “I am glad Representative Binks is with her. For all that he has a knack for getting into trouble, he has always gotten out of it. He will be a great asset.”

“The vote is important,” Leia said, not willing to comment on Jar Jar. No need to tempt fate any more than they already had. “But it won’t be the end of this. Whether the MCA succeeds or fails, there will be more votes about making a military and what to do with it. Setting aside the negotiations with the Separatists.”

Queen Jamillia nodded and earned a tut from one of her handmaidens who was trying to touch up her makeup. “This is only the beginning of a conflict. We may yet have to take more drastic measures to keep the senator safe.”

“Or simply have contingencies more in line with a higher risk,” Leia said gently. She didn’t want to think about it, wouldn’t allow it. But they needed someone else who could step into Padmé’s shoes. Someone who wouldn’t be swayed by the whims of powerful men who were well spoken and devious as snakes.

“Did you have a recommendation?” the queen asked, turning to look at Leia full on.

And Leia realized what she might have accidentally implied, so she scrambled for, “We need actual spies. People who can move and not grab any attention. Who can ask questions that don’t come back to your people, or you.”

“I will consider it,” Queen Jamillia said, and Leia read in her stance and in her tone that spies were not something the queen knew how to ask for or instigate. But she would find out.

For now, they would have to live with that.

* * *

Anakin had thought everything was going well because they spent the evening laughing over trashy dialogue and he was making good progress on Threepio. Artoo did not understand what was amusing the organics, but he was willing to help where he could with repairs, and his running commentary on the illogical behavior in the story was almost as good as the awful writing.

But when a soft noise woke him in the middle of the night and he sat up, Anakin could tell even in the darkness that Padmé had been crying. It was in the soft halo of pain that was around her, and the way her voice was rough even as she whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m just getting some water.”

The couch was just barely too small to be comfortable, so Anakin didn’t mind popping up and saying, “I’ll get it. Or would you like some tea? I think Leia-“

Something wobbled in Padmé when he said that name and he tried to backtrack, to read her in the Force because he couldn’t see her face in the darkness (not that seeing it would necessarily tell him anything), but nothing he was getting off her made sense. So he just ended with, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Padmé was still whispering. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll just get some water and go right back.”

She was moving around him as she spoke and he had to stop himself from trying to grab her when she almost bumped into Artoo, who beeped a sharp warning. She jumped a little at the sound and Anakin could feel her embarrassment. “Sorry.”

In the darkness, everything was fragile and broken and Anakin didn’t know what to do. He wanted to hold her, but for all that she was oozing with feelings, he thought she might break, shatter, if he tried to touch her right now.

So he just stood and watched, as much as he could in the dim light cast by the machines humming in the room. Swaying slightly as she worked by feel and took long moments to get a cup, to get water, to gulp it down.

“Sorry,” she said again as she moved back, but this time right past Anakin, placing the tips of her fingers on his arm for just a moment. Almost without thinking he grabbed them, gently, and gave a little squeeze.

“It’s fine. I was only half asleep anyway.”

“Do you need the bed?” her voice was cut with shame and worry. “ I can-“

“It’s fine,” and if he ever learned to stop repeating himself around her, it would be _fantastic_ , “It’s safer for me to be here. Between you and the door.”

In case they were discovered. In case anyone broke in. In case-

“Thank you,” she finally managed. “I really- Thank you for being here. It helps.”

He could only see the rough outline of her face, but he felt the sincerity from her and nearly sighed with relief. “Good. That’s- I’m glad. Glad I could help.”

She was still raw and throbbing when she said goodnight, and he thought it was a while before she fell back asleep. Anakin didn’t bother. He folded himself up on the couch, half meditating, half reaching for strength and reassurance and comfort. And hoping he was enough to finish this job.

He hadn’t expected it to be like this.


	45. Plausible Deniability

Anakin had been up and working on Threepio for a couple of hours when Padmé came out of her room. He was pretty sure she’d been awake for a while, but managed to not look like a complete idiot by saying something about it. She still hadn’t been expecting him to be awake by the look on her face when she spotted him, and there were an awkward few minutes as they negotiated breakfast and getting ready for the day.

Their day of sitting inside. Not being noticed.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Padmé asked as she watched him prepare breakfast, such as it was.

“No, I’m just waiting for water to boil,” he told her as he opened and closed the few cupboards, hoping beyond hope there would be more things on the shelves than a couple of plates and cups. It was futile, but easier than just watching the water. “Any preference on tea?”

He’d picked out a spicy blend that reminded him of the tea his mother used to make him, but he hadn’t recognized the others and wasn’t sure what Padmé would prefer.

She browsed through the choices, frowning, before tapping the one that he had picked. “This one is fine.”

Fine. Not what she wanted, fine.

“Do… do we need to go out and find another?”

He was hesitant to suggest it because while they hadn’t been outright forbidden from leaving the apartment, they had been explicitly told to move as little as possible. And Anakin wasn’t sure if Padmé would think it was safe to go if he suggested it.

She didn’t, and the look on her face said so, which was embarrassing and a relief. “These are fine. I don’t think we should be risking getting caught over a cup of tea.”

In a desperate bid for a recover, Anakin tried for an arch look and said, “You’re right. It’s not like the tri-colored bloom magically planted on the third biggest asteroid on the fourth ring of the second moon orbiting-“

Padmé actually smacked his arm, grinning. “Obi-Wan is going to get me in so much trouble for reading you those.”

“Oh no,” Anakin promised. “He wouldn’t dare. Then I might tell you about the stuff _he’s_ read to me.”

The grin made her eyes crinkle and helped cover the tired lines around them. “You like to have people read to you?” she asked, and Anakin was thrilled that she was interested. Interested in _him._

“I prefer stories out loud,” he admitted. “How my mother used to tell them. And the aunts.”

And the grandmothers and the grandfathers. The other children telling stories to each other. The new mothers, who told sweet tales to their infants of the lights that were the stars, what their names were and who they represented. The men who talked of the day’s work not as if it had been mucking or cleaning or heaving things across storage rooms, but as if they’d carried the burdens of worlds and brought hope home with them. Stories of courage, of valor. And of everyday things.

Anakin remembered all of them.

“Do you have any favorites?”

“Uhhh…” He had a lot. Well, at least a few. But she probably hadn’t heard any of them before, so if he just tried to tell her what they were called, which was really what they were about, she’d ask him to tell her the story next, and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but… “After breakfast? Stories are… they need your attention.”

Not all of them. Not all the time. But for his favorites, for her first ones, Anakin had to do it right. To tell them right, so she could see the pictures in her mind when he changed his voice and moved his hands and-

Maybe she wouldn’t like them. Wouldn’t think they were magical. What if he did them wrong? He hadn’t told stories to anyone since that first time to Obi-Wan, who had smiled but hadn’t _gotten_ it, and maybe that was because Anakin hadn’t learned right, he should have asked his mom-

“Anakin?” She was just brushing his sleeve, wanting his attention but trying to leave space, worried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

“No,” Anakin almost shouted, winced at his voice, took a breath. Two. He didn’t know why Obi-Wan told him to meditate, half the time it didn’t help anything… “No, I just. It’s been a while. Since I’ve told anyone. I might…” he hated to say it, but she had to know. Just in case. “I might not get them quite right.”

She hadn’t let go of his sleeve, wasn’t coming any closer. She was just staring at him, and Anakin’s gaze dropped to her mouth. He was just about to lean in when she said, softly, “I wish Shmi were here.”

Mom.

Anakin took a deep breath, tried for a smile. “It’d be nice. Although we’d need another bed. Or couch. Or… something.”

“Maybe,” Padmé was trying to smile, but something was wobbling around her, “when this is over, when it’s safer, she can come here. And tell stories to both of us.”

It was like a spark had just combusted into a fireball in Anakin’s chest. Hope (and pain and sorrow and regret) burned, swallowing his words and he _knew_ he looked like an idiot, his mouth just working up and down, trying to come up with, “Really?”

“She’s busy with the RRM, but she’s allowed to take a vacation,” Padmé was rallying from whatever had worried her. “And if she knew you wanted it, she’d come right away, even if she was busy.”

She had confidence in that, Anakin realized. Padmé _believed_ his mom would come, even if she had other responsibilities, just because he wanted it. He could see her. He could _hug_ her. She could _come_.

Mom was free. And she wanted to be with him.

“Not right now,” he managed, trembling a little. It was real again, like that day that she’d been there, standing in the same room. She’d disappeared so quickly, hadn’t said anything, he’d thought it was almost a dream. But Padmé had made it real again. Real and certain. “But yeah, when it’s safe.” Now he could really smile. “Mom tells the best stories.”

And there was that smile that he loved, where half of her mouth twitched up and she was all mischievous and-

The water hissed as it boiled over and Anakin yelped, trying to ignore Padmé giggling behind him. “You sure you don’t need help?”

Straightening, pulling his shoulders back, using every extra inch he had on her to try and protect his dignity, Anakin just said, “Can you get the cups? We’ll start the tea first.”

* * *

Leia hadn’t heard anything from Anakin or Padmé, which she was taking as a good sign. She knew it hadn’t been quite a standard day yet since they had left Obi-Wan and Captain Typho, duped and nervous, assuming a trip to Naboo. Shmi had gotten a message about eight hours later that their wayward baby Jedi and senator had at least been met and spirited off properly. And Leia’s packages for them had been delivered.

That had been her biggest worry. If anyone found out she had moved Threepio, they could have used that, either to track Padmé or to plant another explosive. Leia’d had to trust that Shmi’s network and Artoo’s skills had covered that trail.

If she investigated it, to test its opacity, then it was just another trail left open.

Nursing a headache but avoiding rest, Leia read through Jar Jar’s update on how things were going in preparation for the vote and tried not to feel sick. His natural perspective was optimistic and he’d been sent to interact with people that were familiar with him. To spread reassurances that Padmé was alright, that they were just being cautious. That soon the assassin would be caught, the Jedi were taking care of it.

Between the lines, Leia could read the corruption and fear. Those who liked Padmé were worried the perpetrator hadn’t been caught yet, that more Jedi interference was needed. Those who disliked her (barely mentioned but present) were using the chance to gloat and to undermine the senator’s message of confidence in the Republic’s ability to negotiate to a peaceful solution. Those who were undecided were… undecided. And seemed stuck that way.

“Now that’s a face,” Sabé, wasn’t supposed to be here, Leia thought. This was her house. “Care to share?”

“Just reading Jar Jar’s report.”

Sabé’s hum was followed by a, “Did I give you that?”

“I received it from the senator,” Leia said, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Who is dutifully staying in her apartment, with her head of security, not making any fuss and passing along instructions only when she’s asked.”

Laughing, Sabé took a seat on the couch. “I hope not. Then everyone will know-“ Leia raised an eyebrow and Sabé sighed at the paranoia but changed whatever she was saying to, “she’s not doing well.”

“We’re all doing the best we can,” was Leia’s immediate answer, tasteless as it rolled off her tongue. A lie (a half-truth) she’d told so many times, the polish was a veneer that made the sentiment shine in a way that almost seemed valuable.

“Some of us better than others,” Sabé shrugged. “Can I let Obi-Wan Kenobi contact you? He apparently had Captain Typho ask what you were up to, and if you were available.”

What? “Why?”

“He didn’t say,” Sabé was trying to grin in a suggestive way, but it wasn’t working. She was too curious. “Did you offer to consult with him?”

“No,” Leia said, shaking her head. “I haven’t spoken to him since the day after the banquet. And he has my statement from that. I can’t think what he’d need.”

“If you don’t object, I’ll shuffle him along to you,” Sabé was already standing and Leia missed the company, no matter how busy the handmaiden was. “Then we can solve this mystery and you can have a handsome Jedi cheer you up.”

Since there was nothing dignified to say to this (and the teasing hit on too many Cordé memories), Leia just escorted her friend to the door, earning an inquisitive look from Shmi at the short visit.

Sabé could have called. She probably just wanted an excuse to get out.

“Fly safe,” Leia said before the door closed and Sabé’s wave was cut off from view.

“She didn’t want dinner?” Shmi asked.

“Just needed to ask a question,” Leia dodged admitting she hadn’t asked. “I might need to take a call in a little bit.”

All that got was a nod and a dark look, possibly because Shmi had guessed Leia hadn’t asked Sabé about dinner or possibly because Leia might be planning to cut out in the middle of dinner for work.

Shmi had feelings about interrupting mealtimes.

Unfortunately, Leia did get the call right in the middle of eating. Her rushed explanation of, “It’s Kenobi,” only earned a confused look from Shmi before Leia moved up to her room to take the call.

She wasn’t sure how private he wanted this to be and she knew her room was clean. She’d checked it when she got home. “Well this is a surprise.”

“ _I was under the impression I’d been given permission to call. Or was that a polite fabrication to foist the duty of unearthing my secrets onto you?_ ”

“Sabé stopped by,” Leia smiled, leaning against the wall as she settled on her bed. “She said you might need something. I can’t think of what though.”

Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment, almost looking abashed. “ _I… hadn’t realized you’d visited Dex._ ”

Now that was interesting. “Was I not supposed to?” Perfecting that tone, only the barest hint of taunting with mostly innocent inquiry had taken her most of her months working in the senate. The Imperial Senate. “I’m sorry.”

“ _Not even a little bit_ ,” he countered, folding his arms into his sleeves. Leia wondered if it was to hold his hands still. “ _No, I meant to recommend it, I usually do. At least, if people ask for a halfway decent place to eat outside of the Temple. But I was… surprised you’d gone._ ”

There was something else to that, but Leia wasn’t sure what, so she went with, “What, because I didn’t immediately start pumping him for your deepest, darkest secrets?”

“ _I thought those were only for second meetings_ ,” the Jedi was smiling now. Leia wondered if he was always this easily distracted.

“I’d met you twice by then. But I did promise I wouldn’t ask other people if you offered your secrets first. I figured I should give you a chance to defend yourself.”

“ _It’s greatly appreciated._ ” The smile was slipping. “ _Are you… and Shmi doing alright?_ ”

Anakin’s mother. The arse. He wanted to know if Anakin and Padmé were staying here. “As well as can be expected,” Leia answered, stalling for the best comeback. “Shmi’s been busier since Ruwee was injured, and keeping things together for Padmé without Cordé has been-“ She couldn’t finish that thought. “We’re dealing with it. It’ll take a few more days before we know if we’re doing it well.”

Yeah, he’d been trying to pump her for Padmé’s location. And now he felt super guilty, if she wasn’t misreading that expression. Which she wasn’t. He’d better feel it. “ _I’m so sorry. I can only imagine_ …” At least he knew better than to keep going on that note. “ _I wish I could offer my services in some way, but unfortunately I’ve been given a new assignment. I’m afraid I can only offer my condolences. And the hope that you avoid any more tragedy._ ”

It was gracious enough that she’d throw him a bone. “We’re hoping so too. I think, this time, we’ll manage.” And then, because she too could be an arse, “Is your new assignment diplomatic? I know that’s your specialty. How’s your padawan taking it?”

The contortions of his face were pure gold. “ _I- He- Well, when it comes to Anakin-_ “ Something in her face must have changed. He stiffened, part offended, part caught out. “ _His enthusiasm for this assignment does make one worry, but I suppose he must learn the… intricacies and disappointments of politics at some point. If he is to be a good Jedi._ ”

And wasn’t that a landmine of potential implications. And she was still feeling petty and mean about him trying to use her, so, “I’m sure, in the hands of the right mentor, he could learn the pleasantries and payoffs of diplomacy as well.”

Obi-Wan looked almost as appalled at her words as Leia felt, beneath the almost sneering with which she said them. Obi-Wan’s little baby Jedi had better keep his hands off Padmé, because as far as Leia was concerned there was no way, in this universe or any other-

The thing, the one she had been ignoring, waiting to deal with later, twisted inside her again.

“ _Given the seriousness of this mission,_ ” Obi-Wan eventually said when he had recovered, “ _I simply hope that he does his best to complete his mandate. No matter the distractions._ ”

“Me too,” Leia agreed, done with the teasing. She was too tired, and the twisting thing was too ugly in her mind, too distracting, to keep trying to outwit anyone. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“ _Stay safe_ ,” and Leia was surprised at how serious he sounded. “ _You make a great many people nervous, young Skywalker. Try not to cause too much trouble before I get back._ ”

It was a good thing Obi-Wan hadn’t been in the room when he’d called her “young Skywalker” because there was no way he would have missed the cacophony of emotions that poured off her in that moment. She was almost surprised he hadn’t felt them anyway. “Since when have I ever caused you trouble?” Leia demanded, knowing full well this was a lie.

The look on Obi-Wan’s face fit there so neatly, he had to have been making it for years. Which meant he’d probably used it a lot on a person Leia wished she would never be compared with. “ _I have every faith in your ability to make my life as troublesome or boring as you see fit. With or without my permission._ ”

She wondered from time to time if Obi-Wan was like this with everyone, was like this with Jedi, or was like this only around Leia. She got the feeling, sometimes, that when he spoke to her, he surprised himself. “Just don’t forget to keep your hair trimmed. Appearances are everything in diplomacy.”

“ _Which makes it a wonder that my padawan is so bad at it_ ,” Obi-Wan chuckled. “ _Well, he’s had a few successes._ ”

And Leia did not want to know about that. “Hopefully they didn’t give him a swelled head.”

“ _The next time you see him you’ll have to decide for yourself._ ” And Leia gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn’t assume that was another fishing attempt. “ _May the Force be with you, Leia Skywalker._ ”

“May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Thank you for calling.”

He bowed and flickered out. Leia sat against the wall for another twenty minutes, wondering if she had really understood him, and why he had actually called before Shmi came up to remind Leia to finish her dinner.


	46. Muddy Waters

Padmé was right about one thing. There were a lot of interesting things that you could do from a bed. Leia was currently virtually stalking Senator Darsana via the open chat channel for the senatorial aides, a complex conversation of shorthand codes, inside jokes, and half-truths meant to deliberately confuse the enemy.

Because the enemy was doing the same thing on the same chat channel.

It was a recruiting forum as much as anything else, so you had to risk exposure in order to catch the prize.

In this case, it really wasn’t hard because the Neimoidians were obviously pursuing the senator (probably at least indirectly Leia’s fault) and were doing a terrible job of it because they thought the result of the vote was inevitable and it oozed off of their every word, not unlike the film that covered their skin.

In comparison, Senator Darsana was being painfully subtle and giving nothing away (through his aides). But the general atmosphere Leia was picking up on was “not good.”

She wanted to actively not think about the comments being made by Senator Organa and Senator Mothma’s offices. But her need to know would not allow her to avoid that well of information.

Apparently the codes hadn’t changed that much over two decades. Bottom line, we don’t know for sure we’re losing, but it’s going to be close.

And someone please stop Jar Jar Binks.

The problem, Leia thought as she rubbed her face and adjusted herself against her pillows, was that all Jar Jar wanted was to be _helpful_. And Padmé’s idea of a baseline work ethic ran most people into the ground in less than a day, but not the Gungan, so he’d kept the job partly on virtue of being able to keep up. But while he had the energy and the desire, Jar Jar did not have an ounce of the deviousness in him needed to manipulate the Senate.

The obliviousness to resist its poison, yes. The tenacity to keep bouncing back after mistakes and fallout, certainly. The genuine goodness to baffle, confuse, and almost trick some people with its authenticity.

But not the duplicity. Not the conniving. Not the rage or the drive for power.

And when it came down to it, getting votes was a fight.

“ _Go to sleep._ ” Shmi’s voice in Leia’s head was sleepy, but there was still an edge of affectionate sharpness to it. The voice of a mother, expecting to be heeded.

“ _I’m worried about my friend,_ ” Leia thought back, softly, trying for a lull. “ _I’ll sleep soon._ ”

“ _If you make me get out of this bed…_ ”

Leia had no idea what Shmi would do as a follow-up to that threat. But she did not want to find out. “ _I’ll sleep, I’ll sleep_.”

“ _Good.”_

The reality was she didn’t. Not for a while. Not looking at the screen didn’t stop her brain from spinning round and round, trying to find solutions to problems she was systems too far away to solve.

And when she finally forced them to be quiet, pushed them to dark and hidden places in her mind where they would wait for her to need them again, she found the thought that had twisted, had been waiting for her all day, wanting her to look at it. To see it, as it really was.

What if… what if something did happen between Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala?

In the soft blanket of darkness, Leia thought she knew the truth.

* * *

“She really gave us plenty of spares,” Padmé had taken a break from reading, her voice going hoarse, even with breaks for water. Anakin almost felt bad, but there was an aura of lazy contentment around her that hadn’t been there this morning, and he leaned into it, taking the joy of it and letting the feelings guide his fingers as he lovingly put his friend back together, piece by piece.

“Spare whats?” Anakin asked, reaching for… something. His fingers brushed it as he stayed focused on Threepio’s guts, laid out in front of him, placed it without really thinking. It looked right, _felt_ right.

Padmé was leaning over the crate next to him, touching his shoulder to keep her balance. “Everything, it looks like. That has to be, what, seven spare fingers on top of the number needed for replacement.”

“Only ten work,” Anakin replied without looking. “And they aren’t whole fingers. They need to be put together. Properly.”

“Oh, okay.”

Padmé was withdrawing, her contentment becoming more focused, her hand pulling away. Anakin grabbed it without thinking, holding it to his shoulder. Her fingers twitched under his, but she stopped pulling away. She even leaned into the hand after a moment, watching him closely.

If she just leaned down a bit more…

“Anakin?”

She was frowning, something was fluttering around her. Anakin let go, hunching back over his project, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t get distracted, he had to finish-

“What’s wrong?” Padmé had sunk down next to him, was touching his arm again, wasn’t leaning into his space but had crowded close, and now— Now when he looked over she was at eye level and he was… completely distracted.

He’d let his fingers reach up and brush across her cheek when a sharp blat made them both jump. Artoo whistled a string of insults and profanities, demanding to know when Anakin would be finished doing stupid organic things so they could fix Threepio.

“I’m not-“ Anakin almost protested, then realized Padmé hadn’t understood, and he wasn’t going to give it away by responding. “I’m working as fast as I can.”

Artoo objected. Rudely. Anakin wished he could turn Threepio on so the protocol droid could teach Artoo some manners.

And Padmé had moved back across the room, settled onto the couch, was messing with the datapad and saying something about reviewing her work notes.

Anakin shrugged and went back to work. The sooner he got this done…

The silence should have made for a perfect work environment, but after Padmé’s reading, it felt oppressive. Not to mention the more that Padmé read, the more frustrated she became and while Anakin would normally have shut that out, the reason he usually worked on projects alone was because when he got like this he _couldn’t_ always keep things out, and when they reached him they were louder and more clear and-

“Why do you do it?” he asked suddenly, the frustration finding a voice through a random question he’d only ever partly wanted answered. “Why do you even try?”

“Try what?” Padmé asked, only half listening.

Which was more irritating at this point. “Arguing with these people. Reasoning with them. They’re not listening to you.”

There was a dangerous blankness from Padmé before the anger came, hot and fast and sharp. “It’s my _job_ ,” was out of her mouth before Anakin could apologize and he flinched. “It’s how our government _works_.”

“But it doesn’t,” he was objecting before he had really thought about it. “People in the senate are corrupt, they’re controlled by the bureaucrats. They do evil things and they just get away with it. Arguing with them doesn’t stop them.”

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try,” there was something in the way Padmé said it that reminded Anakin of Obi-Wan quoting lessons over and over again. “It’s difficult to fight the corruption, but if we don’t give people an equal voice then we won’t have a democracy anymore. And the government would be even easier to corrupt.”

“Not if you had the right person,” Anakin protested, “telling everyone what to do. Someone wise and strong, who couldn’t be bullied by the business guilds and the bureaucrats. Who’ll stand up to them.”

She was giving him the weirdest look, and her voice sounded almost faint as she asked, “Like who?”

Well, the Chancellor obviously had the guts to stand up to people. He said Anakin was, would be, the greatest Jedi he had ever known, and Anakin still always felt small in the Chancellor’s presence. If Anakin was… humbled by being around the Chancellor, then he was a really great man. But Anakin was also humbled by being around Padmé and thought she’d do a really great job if someone, like the Chancellor, was smart enough to put her in charge. So he just shrugged and said, “I don’t know. Somebody. Somebody wise.”

A beat and then, “Master Yoda?”

“No!” Master Yoda was very wise, but, “Jedi don’t deal with politics. They’re powerful, but they wouldn’t know how— Anyway, not Master Yoda. Besides,” he knew he shouldn’t smile so he cocked his head, “he’s pretty old and will probably be dead soon. So that wouldn’t work.”

“Is he?” Padmé sounded surprised and sad, which was weird. He didn’t think she knew the grandmaster that well. “I hadn’t heard.”

“The Chancellor says that Master Yoda has been at the head of the Order for over 700 years. No one knows how long he’ll live for sure, but I guess he’s talked about stepping down for a while. Or something. And he looks much, _much_ older than Master Yaddle.”

“Do you… talk to the Chancellor often?”

Anakin couldn’t explain why he found that such a weird question. He’d thought that Padmé and the Chancellor talked often. It was one of the reasons he was so worried he’d let slip how much he had thought about her. Sometimes… sometimes it felt like the Chancellor just said things that other people might not want him to say. But Padmé _didn’t_ know that Anakin and the Chancellor had been talking, which was weird because surely it came up since she’d been made Senator of Naboo. The Chancellor was her mentor and-

And sometimes… people outgrew their mentors.

Oh.

“I… don’t know?” Anakin said, bringing himself back to the question. “I guess so. I see him more now that I don’t need to be in the Temple or with Obi-Wan all the time. Every few months when we have missions. More, when we’re at home. He likes to talk to me.”

He didn’t mean for the last bit to come out so defensive, but the weirdness of Padmé’s question was a haze that wouldn’t clear from the room. She shifted, like she felt it too. “Do you talk about politics a lot?”

“I ask him if Obi-Wan can’t explain something. Or if he explains it and it doesn’t make sense. The Chancellor is an amazing politician. And a good man,” he felt compelled to add.

And that didn’t make the haze better, it made it _worse_. Padmé opened her mouth a few times, but seemed to be at a loss for words. Eventually she said, “I’m glad he’s been kind to you. I thought—“

But she didn’t finish, just looked down at the datapad, scrolling a few times, frowning. When she looked back up and he was still watching she asked, “Is there anything I can do to help? With Threepio?”

“No,” Anakin said, because Padmé was keeping something from him and he was upset. And… she’d lied to him. When she’d said she was glad, that was the wrong word. She didn’t mean it. And he wasn’t going to let a _liar_ touch _Threepio_.

She didn’t deserve him. Maybe Anakin should say he couldn’t do it, should take Threepio back to the Temple and finish him and—

Mom. Threepio was meant for Mom. Who was on Naboo, who had lent Threepio to Padmé. Because Padmé needed him so she could do her job of arguing with people that weren’t listening to her.

He hated it. But Mom had promised, and Anakin had promised, and he could get Threepio finished by the end of today. Or tonight. Probably.

So he’d do it. Anakin wasn’t a liar.

When Padmé’s only response was a tiny, “Oh,” to stand, drop her datapad, and almost run to her room, Anakin’s anger fled with her. That wasn’t. He hadn’t meant—

Artoo called Anakin something belligerent and foul and Anakin just stared at the droid for a moment. “Where did you learn _that_ one?”

When Artoo’s claimed he’d found it in one of Anakin’s disgusting, inefficient biological orifices, Anakin threw up his hands. “You keep talking like that, and I’m installing Threepio’s protocol processor in you.”

The angry response from Artoo, that if Anakin was going to hurt Padmé with Threepio then Artoo would stop helping Anakin and run away, was jarring even if it wasn’t believable. His threat to run away to Leia and have her come and shoot Anakin was completely believable and terrifying.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt her,” Anakin protested, worried that he might have been too loud. That Padmé might have heard him. Although, if she knew, maybe she would come back out.

“Stupid,” Artoo called him, along with, “Idiot,” and, “Insensitive, illogical Jedi.”

Somehow, even in binary, the Jedi part came across as the most offensive.

“What would you know about being insensitive?” Anakin demanded, moving parts around to avoid looking at the droid. “You were making fun of the lock’s on Hailee’s door.”

Artoo’s explanation that they were, in fact, bad locks, and not knowing that didn’t make them better, but just put Hailee in danger, did not improve Anakin’s mood.

He managed another twenty minutes of working, a cold (embarrassed) fury lurking in his gut, making a comfortable nest there, while he painstakingly examined his work. He knew all the parts and pieces in front of him, could name them, list their functions, identify what they were doing in their placement. Could almost see the next steps he had been so naturally taking before.

But the feelings, the good ones, were gone.


	47. Truce

Sabé and Versé were arguing over the merits of various coded messages to try and send Dormé, so that when Padmé showed up at the vote it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise. The largest points of conflict apparently surrounded using old language (from her queen days), which Captain Typho wasn’t familiar with, verses a completely new made up on the spot code, which the good captain also would not recognize.

Hopefully. Since they would have to frame the code to let Dormé know that was what they were doing.

Leia sat and listened, half an ear on what they were saying and the other half trained towards the door, waiting for the warning of Captain Panaka’s tread.

Only he didn’t come. Today, he sent Rani, and Leia wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.

“Are you here to scold us? Or to pump me for more information?” Leia asked as she opened the door just ahead of the guard.

Rani blinked in surprise, and Leia’s move gave Sabé and Versé time to hide what they were working on and pull up the latest of Jar Jar’s reports (still bad). Rani said, “Captain Panaka wants you to know he’s considering taking Shmi Skywalker into custody.”

“Absolutely not!”

Three voices lashed out at once, but Leia assumed hers was the reason that Rani actually stumbled back a step, eyes wide. She recovered quickly though. “He says he wants to speak with you,” Rani told Leia. “And if she insists, Sabé may come too.”

“Oh if I _insist_.” Sabé’s tone was all silk, saving her poison for someone not just the messenger. “Why, yes. Yes, I think I do.”

Leia had known it was going to be bad based on the message. That was a threat, aimed directly at her, and potentially threatening Sabé’s position as well. It got worse though, when Leia realized they weren’t being led to the throne room, or to the queen’s office. They were headed to Panaka’s.

Which meant he didn’t want an audience. Or interference.

The Captain was standing in front of his desk when they arrived, reviewing something, or at least pretending to. His desk was clear enough and the room so orderly that Leia suspected a prop, rather than him catching up on something while he was waiting. If he’d summoned them now, he was ready for them, and wouldn’t want to be distracted.

“I hope you have a very good reason for targeting one of the most important organizers in the RRM. Especially when she’s been covering for Ruwee while he’s still recovering.”

Sabé at least waited until the door had slid shut before she started her assault. Leia wished she would have waited for Captain Panaka to speak first. Being on the attack so soon could come across as too defensive.

“I needed to get you down here,” he said, leaning against his desk as he looked between the two of them. “We need to be back on the same page, and I _don’t like_ someone who isn’t even a member of our Security Force being the only person in the galaxy who knows where our senator is.”

Before Sabé could answer, Leia put up a hand. All attention on her, she considered the best way to go about suggesting that she didn’t trust the security of this room. Without admitting it was because she suspected the Chancellor had had it bugged. “Does this conversation have to happen right now?”

Not a good start, but she could tell from Sabé’s narrowed eyes that Leia’s paranoia was getting through. Captain Panaka gave a short, “Yes.”

“If you want to discuss the exact details,” Sabé said, stepping so she stood slightly in front of Leia, “it would be easier to bring you up to speed with a visual. Follow me.”

She didn’t wait for his answer, just turned and swept back out of the room. Leia paused in the doorway to make sure that the captain was following rather than immediately marching with Sabé through the halls.

They didn’t go to the gardens, which Leia was grateful for. Too easy for general staff to access, too likely they would be overheard. They also avoided most of the offices in the palace, the conference rooms, the private studies, the training rooms. Sabé passed them all, leading their small party up and up, down long pillared halls and through open archways. She moved past formal balconies, up and beyond the gilded marble to stairs that were less grand and less beautiful. Past rooms that were smaller, spaces that looked more like closets than meeting spaces.Their final ascent was up a ladder and through a hatch, up and onto one of the larger domed roofs.

The wind was sharper up here, the view breathtaking. Leia took a moment while Captain Panaka came up behind her to just enjoy it.

When he had closed the hatch, Sabé said, “I’m sorry for the sudden relocation. But if you want us to speak freely, this conversation needs to remain private.”

Her voice wasn’t loud. Captain Panaka had to lean in to catch her words. They ended up in a sort of huddle, blocking the worst of the wind together. “And there was something wrong with my office because?”

“Because we don’t know what your procedure is for checking it to make sure no one is listening in. And it’s clear, based on the attacks that have happened, that we have at least one leak in our security.”

Captain Panaka took a moment to grind his teeth at Sabé’s words, but once the anger had passed, mostly his look was one of resignation. “You’re not going to listen to me on this, are you?”

Something passed between the two of them then, Leia thought. A shift in their posture, a twitch of their eyes. A shared understanding of danger, and what could be done about it. “Only if you’re willing to listen back,” Sabé said. “You fought us every step of the way during the invasion. We’ve been working around you ever since.”

A truce, Leia thought as she watched the captain’s jaw twitch. Sabé was offering something, seeing if Captain Panaka was willing to take it. “It’s my duty to protect the monarch, regardless of how inconvenient it is for her.”

“Padmé isn’t the queen,” Sabé wasn’t harsh, but she was unyielding. “And Captain Typho does _not_ have the same responsibilities you did. The role of senator is _different_.”

“She’s not less important just because she’s not queen anymore,” Captain Panaka said, but Leia could see him giving way.

She held her peace. This was a fight that didn’t actually have anything to do with her. Sabé said, “No, but her responsibilities are different, and the risks she has to take are too.”

“If she dies,” the captain said, “and it’s even suggested that the Separatists did it, never mind if anyone proves it, it’ll be all out war.”

Sabé glanced to Leia, who took a turn to say, “If she isn’t at the vote, it could be anyway.”

“She’s one senator—“

“She’s an icon,” Leia continued. “She’s a symbol and she’s a warning. Naboo is peaceful and prosperous. Isolated and not directly on a major hyperlane. It’s represented in the Senate, has produced politicians that are capable and wise. And if something happens to it, the larger body will take that as a sign of what’s to come. What could happen to anyone, if they don’t fall in line. Especially anyone not a Core world.”

He looked grumpy as he said, “She’s still on Coruscant.”

Technically, not even Sabé knew that for certain. It was supposed to stay contained. Leia asked, “Is the queen still having us keep the information on lockdown?”

“We’ve been instructed only to say that the plans were carried out. Successfully,” Captain Panaka was forcing the words through his teeth. “We’ve sent two parties out from the palace, neither with any of Padmé’s staff in them. Discretely but not unnoticed. One was sent to the Gungans, the other to the lake country.”

To give the cover credence to anyone who might be watching. Bitter he may be, but the captain was good. “This cannot, _cannot_ , get back to Coruscant, for the next two days.” Leia stressed it not because she thought he didn’t know this was serious, but because this had to be agreed to or she would jump off this roof if she had to, to keep the secret safe.

“I got that,” Captain Panaka said. “But frankly, it isn’t that hard to guess since she isn’t here and the Advisory Council knows you rerouted her.”

“They aren’t all great liars,” Sabé said, “but we gave them loose facts to repeat, not a story. Under the queen’s command.”

Yes, but anyone could have heard them. The throne room didn’t exactly have sound proofing. “We can only mitigate, not eliminate risk,” Leia said. She looked at the Captain. “Threatening Shmi is a really big risk.”

He actually winced. “I should have come up with something better. I couldn’t. You don’t exactly have a lot of other leverage. And once it was you taking care of things, that made Shmi the next obvious choice for being involved.”

“I don’t know who she contacted,” Leia admitted. “I didn’t ask. I know there was at least a three-person chain to get each piece set up. To avoid leaving a direct trail.” And Leia hadn’t needed to tell Shmi about that. It was something built naturally into her system, her network.

A very small, giddy part of Leia hoped very much that her grandmother was exploiting her position in the refugee program expressly to free slaves. She wouldn’t ask, Shmi hadn’t invited that. But Leia loved the idea that her demure, humble grandmother _was_ taking advantage of her position because she was _not_ stupid.

Leia knew Luke would approve.

“But she is still on Coruscant?” he was at least persistent.

“Yes,” Leia said. “Somewhere anonymous, and therefore safe.”

“In the lower levels,” the captain growled.

Leia’s brows went up. “You have a better idea?”

“It’s dangerous there,” he grated out.

“She has a Jedi,” Leia flapped her hands, tossing his words into the breeze. “And Artoo. And _herself_. Pity the fool that does try and cross her, should they dare. But she shouldn’t have been noticed. The Jedi would have contacted us right away if they had been found. They’d want to know why we didn’t contact them when she didn’t show up.”

He accepted that with a pinched frown. “And Dormé knows?”

“No,” Sabé stepped back in, placing a hand on Leia’s shoulder, possibly for solidarity, possibly for balance. “Not yet. We’re working on getting her a message that won’t clue in anyone else.”

“This is a bad idea,” Captain Panaka rubbed his eyes, then looked bleakly across the landscape below. “If they get desperate, they might try and shoot her in the senate.”

Unlikely, Leia thought. It seemed a bit clumsy, and very high risk for low chance of reward. But she just said, “Do you really want to have to face her for the next thirty years, having helped keep her from the vote?”

He looked positively green at that. Then sighed. “Put together a message, and I’ll deliver it. It will look less like one of your codes if I’m the one passing it on.”

Not ideal, but a good place to start. Leia let Sabé nod their agreement and was amused and surprised when the captain insisted on being the last back down the ladder, and lending each of them a hand for the first few rungs.

* * *

Somewhere around the middle of the night (after he couldn’t hear Padmé crying anymore), Anakin had caught his stride again and fallen into an effortless workflow with Threepio.

The good news was that by morning, he had a droid frame that was standing, supported by its own two feet, even when inactive. Which was an improvement. Last time, Threepio had only been stable at this stage when turned on.

The bad news was that it had taken him all night to get there and it hadn’t been a refreshing ten hours, he’d just been working. So he knew, when Padmé tried to sneak out of her room to use the refresher, that he hadn’t seen her not because she’d been too fast, but because he’d also been trying to hide his bloodshot, puffy eyes.

From Artoo’s perspective, breakfast was hilarious. Anakin didn’t face-plant into his food, but he did have to put extra focus into moving his limbs in coordination so that he didn’t dump any given bite on his lap. By the end of the meal, in spite of the awkward silence and not talking to each other, he was pretty sure Padmé had noticed.

“Threepio’s looking really good,” she said quietly, while they were doing the dishes. He wished she’d let him do them alone. It wasn’t a full kitchen, they were kind of squished into the same space. “It’s— You’re really amazing.”

The words sounded awkward, even though they also sounded honest. Anakin thought about that, and was going to say something when she said, “I think we’re done. I’ll be working today, so I’ll stay in the back so I don’t bother you.”

And then she was gone.

He’d caught her sleeve for half a second, but she didn’t slow down when she felt the tug and Anakin’s words died in his mouth.

He was really screwing this up.

The temptation to just stomp around the apartment and be angry was large, but his brain chose this moment to realize that Artoo hadn’t moved away from the door the entire time they’d been here. Sure, he’d rolled forward to help with Threepio. But he’d kept in a tight rectangle, always covering at least part of the doorway, so that anyone who tried to come in would fall over him first.

And Anakin realized he hadn’t been doing nearly as well himself.

This was about Padmé’s safety. This was about proving, to Obi-Wan and the Council, that Anakin had what was needed to be a Jedi Knight. And this… this was about helping Padmé do her job.

Artoo had remembered that. He’d never lost sight of it. Not like the stupid, sleep deprived organic that was Anakin Skywalker.

Enough. He could do better. He would do better.

The room was way too small for him to practice lightsaber forms, especially with Artoo and a half assembled Threepio around. At least, not with the blade live. So he ran through his basics with just his hilt, letting the movements bring him focus and work off some of his energy.

He was still angry. He didn’t even know why, but he was. And he was also tired. Which maybe had something to do with being stupidly angry. So when he was done practicing, and checking their floor for the sense of any threat lurking around, Anakin made himself fold up on the floor (couch would have been too distracting) and meditate.

He’d told Obi-Wan he wanted to, might as well take advantage.

He didn’t end up doing it for very long.

Any time that he tried to find something to let go of or concentrate on, he’d be drawn to his half-completed project in the corner. After maybe thirty minutes, he accepted that whatever was going on in his head, Threepio was too important and nothing else (besides protecting Padmé) was going to matter until he got this done.

And he needed the time if he was going to finish by tomorrow. Especially if he was going to manage the upgrades.

He only interrupted his work for a few minutes to make Padmé lunch and hover awkwardly near her door, trying to decide the best thing to do. The simple knock and flee option would have worked better if she wouldn’t have been able to see him in the front room from her open door.

In the end, he accepted the awkwardness and waited for her to open up, holding out a bowl and a cup when she did and saying, “Brain food.”

She actually smiled, just a little, and he hadn’t even been trying to be funny. As she took them, she asked, “How’s it going?”

“Not… not bad.” And then, because some part of his brain was still working separately from the rest of him, “Do you think, later— Would you have time? Artoo can’t reach much above his waist, and my hands are— I was smaller at nine. Could you… help? Me?”

“Are you sure?” she asked, and he felt like she was asking something else and he had just missed it.

“Yeah?”

“Alright. Let me finish a couple things and eat this and I’ll be right out.”

“Okay,” he told the closing door.

It was several hours later, when he was trying to find a safe place for them to stop so he could get her dinner, when he finally broke down and said, “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t smile at him, didn’t seem to be making hardly any expression at all, except maybe this hint of, “Are you?” in the set of her mouth and the way her eyes weren’t blinking. But all she said was, “Thank you.”

He probably should have added something else, but in her silence he couldn’t.

She did move back out to the couch later, when she started working again, after he didn’t need her anymore. She fell asleep there, and Anakin dithered over what he should do for ages, until Artoo pointed out she was in Anakin’s “bed,” and from there it was an easy choice to move her to the back.

She barely stirred while he tucked her in, and if he stayed there for a minute, just watching her, well, only Artoo would know.


	48. Reinforcements

Four hours of sleep was less than optimal, but Anakin had wanted to finish at least half a dozen toys before they had to leave. He’d tried to use mostly only spare parts that couldn’t be easily repurposed, since Leia had sent a _lot_ and apparently they would be collected by people who probably needed them once Anakin and Padmé left.

But he had to do _something_ for the kids. Adults thought about food, not fun. And that had always gotten him into trouble.

“Let’s hope Padmé’s already up,” Anakin whispered as he reached for Threepio’s switch. This should work, he’d done everything correctly. He just couldn’t test a chatty, excitable droid when Padmé was supposed to be asleep.

Artoo seemed confident. They hadn’t had to replace any of the memory units, and the damage there had looked superficial.

Only one way to find out.

He flipped the switch.

Threepio’s eyes flashed two or three times, there was a lurch and a catch in his voice as he tried to speak, but eventually there came a clear, “Senator Amidala! Is she safe?”

“She’s fine,” Anakin said, smiling in relief. “How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling?” Threepio parroted, confused. “I’m quite fine, I assure you. I was just walking off the ship when—“ He stopped, and Anakin couldn’t be sure if it was because of a memory blank, shock, or that Threepio had moved his arm and spotted that it was completely exposed. “Am I… naked?”

His tone was appalled and shocked and Artoo beeped irreverent giggles. “I’ve been repairing you,” Anakin said, before the droids could get into it. “We haven’t gotten you replacement coverings yet.”

“Repairing me?” Threepio looked at himself, despairing. “Why, I must have been blow up! How horrid!”

“Threepio?” if Padmé hadn’t been awake before, she was now. She was wrapping a loose robe around her nightgown and as she did Anakin spotted a familiar flash of white on a cord.

She’d kept the japor snippet.

“Oh Senator, I’m so glad to see you’re alright. It seems I was in an accident. Did I cause you too much trouble? I was supposed to give all those messages—”

“It’s alright, Threepio,” Padmé soothed, smiling with delight. “We had to change all our plans. I’m glad to see that you’re okay.” She almost reached out to touch him, but stopped before she brushed against his wiring. “Ani, he’s perfect.”

“Perfect?” Threepio repeated, before Anakin could drag himself away from the memory of Padmé saying that before to thank her. And then, “Ani? Do you mean— Are you, Master Anakin?”

“Hi Threepio,” Anakin couldn’t help but smile. Threepio was meant to help Anakin’s mother, but was Anakin’s friend. Time, and a disgusting explosion, hadn’t changed that. “How are you feeling?”

“You know, it’s rather odd,” Threepio answered, looking down at himself. His range of movement had increased just a touch, but some of that would go away again when he was properly covered. “I feel almost like myself, just a little off, and yet even more of what I’m supposed to be. I wonder, does that make any sense?”

“You’ve been upgraded,” Anakin said, gesturing to the crates behind him. “I got some better parts for you this time, and had a better idea of how to put you together. Do you like it?”

“I think so,” Threepio answered, “but I can tell you I’d feel much better if I were less exposed. I don’t suppose you’ll be able to finish me this time?”

It wasn’t an accusation. Threepio’s tone was very clear when he was doing accusations. Or sarcasm. He didn’t do subtlety, unless it was deeply, _deeply_ ingrained in a culture. But the punch of the words, the weight of the memories they represented, struck deep. “I- We’re-“

He looked hopelessly at Padmé, wanting to say yes. But there wasn’t anything in the crates. And they were heading back to the Senate today and-

“We’ll see what we can do,” she said, reaching for Anakin, looping her arm through his. “For now, I think we need to bring you up to speed. We’re going to be really busy today.”

* * *

The way she was twisting her hair was a distraction, but not enough to calm Anakin down. He could stop his leg bouncing for a few seconds each time she looked directly at him, up from the datapad, but the moment he lost her focus he was moving again.

They were dressed, they were packed, he’d left the toys he’d finished in one of the crates, nestled so they wouldn’t get broken. All they needed now was to meet their ride at the designated time.

“Do you think we’ll make it on time?” Padmé asked, again, even though the last three times she hadn’t liked or believed Anakin’s answers.

His halfhearted, “Sure, probably,” earned a glare from her, and he hunched a bit more, knowing the poncho didn’t work as well as his cloak for hiding himself with the movement. “Everything else Leia’s done has worked out just fine. Why wouldn’t she plan for this?”

Which was apparently, finally, the right thing to say because Padmé actually relaxed. “You’re right. She wouldn’t let me down.”

Of course _Leia_ wouldn’t let Padmé down. Never mind that she wasn’t the one who had been here for the past two days, making instant food slightly more edible, _fixing Threepio_ who Padmé _needed_ to do her _job_ , while also being Padmé’s bodyguard. No, Leia was the one who hadn’t let Padmé down.

“You ready?” he asked, because it was the nicest thing he could think of to say. The inside of his head was buzzing and he just wanted to get out.

“We probably shouldn’t leave too early,” she murmured, and apparently she’d noticed that he was in a mood, which- okay, he hadn’t actually meant to make her feel bad. Great.

The next twenty minutes were excruciatingly painful. The only good thing about them was that Padmé didn’t speak binary, so she couldn’t hear Artoo mocking Anakin the whole time, calling him an almost impressive number of variations of “stupid organic.” Or, even worse, “stupid _baby_ organic.”

Anakin was _not_ a child.

He’d kept Threepio from translating for Artoo the whole time. No kid would have been able to do that.

“I’m not really comfortable,” Threepio said instead, “wandering about like this. I wasn’t allowed outside very often, you know, until I had been properly covered. The race was a special occasion of course, but-“

The scorching of two suns, the whipping tears of sand flying across his face, the panic as his power coupling had coughed black smoke, the surge as Sebulba had rolled, rolled to an explosive defeat while he, Anakin, had flown across the finish lines, straight into the arms of victory. To his mother, to Padmé, to—

To Qui-Gon. Who had died only a few days later, after seeing Anakin set free. After seeing Anakin into the care of the Jedi, of Obi-Wan.

Things… boiled just underneath Anakin’s skin, things he couldn’t find the words to explain. So close to the surface now. He had a job to do, he knew that. But the twisting and the wrenching inside of him boiled all other thoughts away until just one was left.

Why?

Why hadn’t the Jedi saved his mother? Why was someone targeting Padmé? Why did everything seem to revolve around _Leia_ , she wasn’t the Chosen One, this wasn’t her destiny—

“Anakin?” Padmé was very carefully still, Artoo was silent, even Threepio…

“Master Ani, did you mean to move the table like that?”

“It wasn’t a table,” Anakin wanted to say. And also, “I didn’t move it.”

But while he might be able to defend his skepticism of whether or not the narrow slab by the couch constituted a piece of furniture, he _had_ moved it.

And he hadn’t meant to do that.

“I think we should go,” he said instead, standing and moving towards the door, reaching out with the Force. “No one’s out there, now’s as good a time as any.”

“You sense something?” Padmé asked, and it took everything Anakin had not to lie to her. To _Padmé_. He wanted to lie to Padmé so that he didn’t have to explain his thinking or what he could feel.

But he swallowed the lies and said, “We- I need to move. We’ll be careful. It’s almost time.”

As it turned out, leaving a couple minutes early was fine. Threepio took his sweet time shuffling down the corridor, testing his new vocal capacity to whisper aspersions about the lack of cleanliness, the inferior architecture, and the flickering lights while not earning the attention of their invisible neighbors.

Anakin was really grateful he’d made that upgrade.

By the time they made it out and around to the back of the building, they only had to wait for one minute before their ride showed up.

“They said three of you,” the man in the front grumbled, but he helped load Artoo into the back and offered Threepio a hand when the droid had trouble with the narrowness of the seats.

He also offered a hand to Padmé to help her into the front, but Anakin suspected that was less a courtesy and more an excuse to touch her. Which Anakin understood, even if he disliked it. Since Padmé didn’t seem to think much of it one way or another, Anakin assumed people did things like that for her all the time. Which also made sense. He just needed to make sure more of those opportunities were his.

It was cramped in the back of the speeder, even with Threepio pinned against Artoo to leave Anakin as much room as possible to react in case they were spotted and attacked on their way in. Which they weren’t, fortunately.

It wasn’t a surprise. Their driver actually took them down two more levels instead of up, wending his way in a thick darkness, broken only by neon holodisplays of strange advertisements. These ones weren’t like the ones in the pleasure districts though. They were shoddier, the services offered much more practical.

Up until the last twenty minutes right under and around the Senate. Then it got seedy and exotic again. Which would have confused Anakin more if he hadn’t heard some of the choice things Padmé’d had to say about her coworkers this morning.

“We’ll let you off here,” their driver said after he’d already pulled over. Anakin wasn’t intimatelyfamiliar with the underside of the Senate District, but he could feel that they were closer to the Temple, and guessed they were very close to the Senate itself, if quite a bit lower than he would have guessed they could manage.

“Thank you,” Padmé told the man, and he smiled for her in a way he never would have for Anakin. Which made Anakin very glad when the man left. Even if he wasn’t sure where they were going.

“Now what?” Threepio asked, looking around nervously. The traffic here was light for Coruscant, but there were still plenty of people giving them looks. And while they didn’t stand out for being dressed too nicely, their particular brand of poverty didn’t quite match the heavy labor look of the people passing by.

If they stayed too long-

“You seem a bit lost.”

Anakin tried to move between the speaker and Padmé, but she’d already thrown herself forward, at this new stranger. Who wasn’t a stranger, Anakin realized as he got a better look. He hadn’t seen her as much as Dormé, he thought, but maybe she had shown up with Jar Jar? That had to be it, otherwise Padmé wouldn’t be clinging to her so tightly.

“What happened?” Padmé’s friend asked, glancing at Anakin and frowning. Which was rude. He’d gotten her here safely, hadn’t he? “We got a coded message and then I got contacted by one of Shmi’s refugees…”

His mom. Anakin’s mom had been helping, arranging this. Every time he thought about it, Anakin was proud and horrified. This was so dangerous. And it was so important, and the person they’d trusted was Shmi Skywalker. Who hadn’t even been a year off of Tatooine.

“I’ll explain inside,” Padmé said. “Please, I need to get ready.”

“Of course.”

The friend, Eirtaé as Anakin was reminded, led them inside a facility where uniforms were being washed and pressed. They dodged around busy droids, nearly losing Threepio twice as he got distracted, and eventually made their way up a series of service lifts to surroundings that were less and less dingy and metallic and more polished.

His nerves increased with each floor and Anakin wasn’t sure if it was because he was worried, because suddenly a possible threat felt real again, or if it was in response to Padmé’s growing nerves. She was mostly still, but her fingers kept flexing, tightening in ways that looked painful and then stretching out again. The fourth, or maybe fifth, time she did that, he reached out and took her hand, trying to rub soothing circles across the back.

He wasn’t sure if it worked, he was too busy ignoring Eirtaé’s stares. But at least Padmé’s fingers stopped flexing.

They had exited one lift and were making their way towards another when Threepio suddenly stopped, whimpering, “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly!”

“What’s wrong?” Padmé asked, and it was clear to Anakin that her patience gone. “You’ve been here before.”

“Of course I have, but not looking like this!” Threepio might knock himself over if he kept swinging his arms around like that. “That’s an entrance to the Senate! I know what those locks are. I can’t be seen in those halls while I’m _naked_. I represent the Naboo delegation! The RRM! Mistress Leia! She has messages for some of these people, and I’m honor bound to pass them along. What a diplomatic nightmare it would be if I did it like this. Do you have any idea how badly they could be offended?”

“It’s not the main body of the Senate,” Eirtaé stepped in, plenty of patience to soothe. “We’ll be going through some back halls to a preparation room. Private areas. Low traffic, no dignitaries-“

“We’ll be there,” Threepio objected. “And if it’s a preparation area-“

“Please, Threepio,” Padmé was jittering again. “I can’t leave you out here. Leia would kill me.” Which was stupid. Anakin wouldn’t let her do that. “And I need you in there. We all do.”

“Here,” Anakin said, shrugging out of his poncho. “Use this for now. That way even if the worst happens, it won’t be as embarrassing.

“But those are _clothes_ ,” Threepio whined. “I’m a _droid_ , I don’t-“

Artoo chose this moment to blat out a very carefully constructed sentence on Threepio’s rudeness in refusing Anakin’s gift, delaying the Senator, and acting like a moron. This didn’t seem to be working until he made Threepio angry enough to chase him, and which point they made it into the building, up the lift, and halfway down the hall before Threepio realized he’d crossed that sacred threshold. By then, he’d already defaced the integrity of the building, and it was a minor effort to corral him further down the hall, up another lift, and around the corner to a small set of rooms, where he immediately became more comfortable.

“I suppose I can stay here until nightfall, when the building is empty,” Threepio explained to Anakin, who was the only one left to talk to now that Padmé had been spirited away to wash up. “Then there won’t be any chance of me being seen.”

“I don’t think-“ Anakin began, but Eirtaé appeared suddenly, smiling and saying, “Threepio, I think Leia has a gift for you.”

“For me?” Threepio asked, shuffling over. “That’s so kind of her. Do you know what it is?”

Anakin got a conspiratorial look from Padmé’s friend as she gestured them both towards the back of the room. “Not for sure, but based on the casing…”

It was from a droid parts manufacturer, a higher end one if Anakin had to guess. All gold and bronze lines on the case, which definitely looked pretty but probably wouldn’t survive being shipped off planet. But it was pretty flat, which might mean…

Threepio invited Anakin to help him with the latches and the lifting and Anakin nearly dropped the lid when he saw what was inside.

Gold plating. She’d- Leia’d gotten gold colored coverings for Threepio.

Not solid gold, which would have been awful (Anakin had seen some pretty stupid things Core-worlders insisted on doing to some of their droids), but something that had a pristine golden shine with a much higher durability than Anakin would have guessed, especially for a protocol droid.

This was custom. This was a gift. This was protection for a treasured friend.

In all his thinking about fixing Threepio and how much it would mean to his mom, or to Padmé, Anakin hadn’t really given a lot of thought to how Leia had gone out of her way to save a droid. Threepio was his droid, his friend, Anakin loved him. It just made sense in a world where Threepio was broken to make every effort to fix him.

What was it the note had said? “He needs help.”

Not Padmé, not Leia, not Shmi. Threepio. For all the other practicalities of the situation, Leia had made sure the most capable person was able to help Threepio.

And as Anakin fitted the new coverings over the droid, listening to Threepio’s delighted preening and almost violent relief, that realization firmed. Beautiful for the setting Threepio was in. Functional for environments where he might be in danger. Gold rather than a more traditional silver, because Threepio was himself.

Leia loved Threepio, Anakin thought. And it made him a lot more inclined to like her.

She’d also provided supplies to clean Artoo, which Anakin was very grateful for, almost as much as Artoo was.

“Oh!” Apparently Eirtaé hadn’t told Padmé about the coverings because she looked completely shocked when she stepped out a while later, staring at their friend. “Where did you find these? They’re perfect.”

“Leia,” was Eirtaé’s easy reply, and Padmé shook her head.

“Of course. I should have known.”

Anakin took a brief turn in the back, cleaning up some more and getting into his Jedi attire. It was a little odd after the last few days, to have the loose fabric of his robes hanging around his hands, swishing with his every step. But at least he looked presentable. He would be with Padmé in the Senate dome. He couldn’t disappoint her.

“I’m ready,” he said as he came back out, and Padmé seemed as uncomfortable as he felt, seeing him dressed like this again. “Are you?”

“We’re meeting Dormé and Captain Typho upstairs, in the conference room directly across from our pod,” Eirtaé told him. “We’ll have about fifteen minutes for the Captain to yell at us before we’ll need to be seated. That should give us at least two minutes to tell you where to stand so that you’ll be within reach for safety reasons, but out of the way for visual political purposes.”

Which seemed stupid to Anakin, but Threepio was already making suggestions about what Anakin should do with his hands and the angle of his head so that it would be appealing to the people Padmé wanted to impress, and okay, maybe this really was a big deal. He’d do his best to contribute.

He was only half listening to Padmé and Eirtaé going over Padmé’s speech as they walked along. He hadn’t realized exactly how intense the discussion on forming a military had gotten, and he felt a little silly about that.

“Master Anakin, we must stop,” Threepio said suddenly, pointing with his body (it must have been rude in this case to use his hands) at a group they had almost passed. “I have to see Senator Darsana.”

“Padmé,” Anakin half called, remembering belatedly that they were in the Senate Building now, and really he should be more formal. When she looked at him, he just nodded at Threepio while his eyes moved to the Anselmi leaning casually against the wall. Padmé frowned, but nodded to Threepio, who made his way over to the group and stood at a respectful distance until he had been acknowledged.

“Senator Darsana,” Threepio executed a bow that left even Anakin impressed, his arms and fingers moving in specific patterns as he did. “My most sincere apologies. I have a message I was to deliver to you, and it seems to have been irreparably damaged. May I be permitted to at least convey the sentiments of the sender?”

“I presume,” the Anselmi grinned with a multitude of teeth and Anakin wasn’t sure what to make of that expression, “that the missing message was taken in the storm that has so violently disrupted our dear Senator Amidala.”

“It was,” Threepio agreed, still half bowed, his arm now moving across his chest and Anakin couldn’t quite see if he did anything else with his hands. “But a fair tide carried us to shore, and we have been granted another chance.”

There were several seconds of deliberate silence which probably would have made an organic sweat. Threepio, true to his programming, had no problem waiting for his turn, half bowed or otherwise. Eventually Senator Darsana said, “You may convey the sentiments.”

What followed was a musical lilt of language accompanied by gestures made close to Threepio’s body, with a series of hand twitches that were an utter mystery. Padmé seemed vitally interested in the movements and was making no effort to continue down the hall, in spite of the fact that they were now drawing a crowd.

When Threepio reached the end of his sentiments, Senator Darsana executed his own bow, and said, “If you remember any of the message that was to be delivered, I would be happy to receive it in private.” Padmé granted her permission, bowing in a formal if less ornate way to the Anselmi, who did not seem adequately impressed for having just been blessed by Padmé’s focused attention.

But then, he was part fish.

The rest of them made it to the conference room, and Captain Typho did yell, but only for ten minutes because they’d taken so much time with Threepio in the hall. And speaking of Threepio, the protocol droid joined them just before they left for the pod, cheerfully announcing that he had given Leia’s message and that Senator Darsana had been very grateful to receive it.

That cheered Padmé up, which meant Anakin was able to smile cheekily when they entered the pod and his attention was immediately drawn to Master Yoda and Master Windu, who were _not_ happy to see him.

He hadn’t been given permission, so he didn’t wave. But it was a near thing.

It wasn’t until he saw the Chancellor’s horrified face that Anakin wondered if he hadn’t done the right thing.


	49. Crescendo

Chancellor Sheev Palpatine was a seasoned politician who had seen the rise and fall of many parties and ambitions and frequently joked that if there was anything left that could surprise him, he didn’t want to see it. The day to day of his life was bad enough.

Anakin had never _completely_ understood why that was so funny, but he’d always laughed when the Chancellor said it to him, because Anakin wasn’t stupid and he wouldn’t make the Chancellor look stupid by looking like an Outer Rim castoff when he was specially invited to the Chancellor’s office. And anyway, Anakin had understood enough to know that the Chancellor only expected bad surprises in his job.

So when Anakin saw, for just a brief moment, the look of horror on the Chancellor’s face, it made Anakin’s stomach twist in an unpleasant way. Did the Chancellor know something they didn’t? Was Padmé in danger just by being here? Was there someone in this room waiting to kill her?

Anakin reached out first, and quickly encountered the irritated and even punishing presences of Master Yoda and Master Windu in the upper levels. Who were probably the most dangerous people in the room right now and were definitely considering killing Anakin, not the senator.

Not great, but not terrible.

Next he used his eyes and ears, focusing them with the Force when he realized there were too many people and the room was too large to catch everything the old fashioned way. Maybe the masters weren’t happy that Anakin and Padmé were here, but when Padmé had been given a choice to stay, wasn’t Anakin’s first job to protect her? And hadn’t he done that?

What a lovely dream, Master Windu seeing reason and being pleased with Anakin.

What a joke.

“Are you in trouble?” Padmé had spotted the Jedi and Anakin made himself look at them again, to see Master Windu’s violent disapproval and Master Yoda’s more insidious disquieted look.

“No,” he told her, and quickly amended that to, “not yet.”

“I don’t think you’re the only one.” Her gaze had drifted back to the Chancellor, but darted around to catch a concerned looking human woman with short red hair, a Rodian shaking his head (maybe smiling, it was always hard to tell with Rodians), and slowing slightly as it drifted over a human male Anakin _thought_ was the guy from Alderaan Obi-Wan had once introduced him to. It had been a while ago, probably a whole year.

But her attention came back to the Chancellor and Anakin didn’t know what to make of that face. It wasn’t the look that had scared Anakin earlier, but it wasn’t a great improvement either. It was a stern look, unyielding, and Anakin remembered Padmé’s comments about mentors. He couldn’t take her hand out here, so he opted for the ruder (but more politically correct?) offering of his calm and confidence in the Force. He knew it wouldn’t reach her like it would Obi-Wan, that it wouldn’t open up a line between them if she accepted it. But her shoulders came back and her chin came up and she looked so fierce and proud it took his breath away.

She could do this. She _would_ do this.

* * *

Shmi didn’t object when Leia brought Sabé and Versé home for dinner (and Leia may have redeemed herself for the last time when she _didn’t_ ask Sabé to join them), and also didn’t object when they pulled up the Senate proceedings. Leia even caught her grandmother smiling as Shmi noticed Anakin standing behind Padmé in her pod.

Leia had to cover her mouth when the camera focused back on the Chancellor. She hadn’t gotten to see his face like that very often, maybe ever. But she knew what it meant.

“ _You outmaneuvered him,_ ” Luke’s voice was gleeful in her head. “ _He didn’t see this coming and wasn’t ready for it._ ”

“ _I hope he wasn’t, but he’s had plenty of time for contingencies,_ ” Leia reminded her brother. It was nice to think they’d outplayed Palpatine and won a solid victory. And maybe they had. But it was early days yet. The Clone Wars had been a massive undertaking on the part of the Emperor, and it was built to be a no-win scenario. For everyone except the Sith Lord. They might have damaged his plans, they might have discomforted him. But they weren’t winning.

Yet.

Luke seemed to catch the tenor of her thoughts and his presence pushed more forcefully against her mind. When she opened up to him he showed her a memory, the briefest moment, but one she could immediately identify by the feelings that came with it. Luke throwing down his saber, refusing to kill their father.

That face… was a lot like the one the Chancellor was making now.

“ _I don’t think he liked our mom,_ ” Luke mused, and Leia tried not to choke on her bite.

“ _We are_ not _talking about that right now_.”

The impression of a shrug. “ _Alright_.”

But he wasn’t going to let it go, not now that he knew Leia had admitted the possibility to herself, that Padmé... And Leia still hadn’t been able to pin him down on if he had guessed weeks ago, or if he’d figured it out just a little before her. Or not before her at all. Which meant it was a topic she was going to have to revisit if she didn’t want him silently making fun of her for years.

“Who are the people in the central pod?” Shmi was asking Sabé when Leia’s focus came back. “What are they doing?”

Leia listened halfway to Sabé’s breakdown of the Chancellor and his cronies, listing the rules for floor debates (that no one followed) and what the consequences would be for people who broke them (nothing, because enforcement was a pain in the ass).

“Fear of reprisal is what keeps most people from interrupting in the middle of speeches,” Leia added when Sabé was finished. “Technically during a scheduled debate, as opposed to informative assemblies or celebrations or other nonsense, anyone can interject at any point where they feel false information is being given. But most wait until a lull or after the speaker has closed. You don’t want to interrupt an Ithorian. They make you pay for it.”

Shmi smiled, but it was only for a moment before she turned back to the debate. “They are alternating?”

“The Chancellor and the Vice Chair are usually enough up to date on allegiances to keep that pattern going,” Sabé said between bites. “Bad ones will moderate so that the party they align with goes last. Really bad ones have their people go first. Morally and ethically bankrupt geniuses have theirs go first and last with the opposition sandwiched in the middle.”

“Chancellor Palpatine is a good moderator then?” Shmi asked.

Sabé shook her head. “He’s fine. I don’t know if it’s him getting lost in his own friendships and forgetting where others’ alliances are, but this will get pretty muddled before it gets to the end.”

“When will Padmé speak?”

“If they can manage it, last,” Leia said. “If not, close to the end.”

Although it wouldn’t be a surprise if Palpatine tried to stop her from speaking at all. Or maybe not. Taking a public action against her was much more risky than third party assassins.

“She wants to stand out,” Shmi seemed impressed and worried.

Leia nodded. “And she’s the leader of her movement. I know they talked about having her go at the beginning. They would have if Jar Jar were there. It would give everyone else time to forget what he’d said.”

“Leia,” Shmi scolded.

“She’s right,” Versé stepped in, shaking her head. “He’s very good for a lot of things, but public speaking always makes him nervous. His accented Basic can get thicker if it gets really bad, and he’ll transpose letters in his words. The Senate floor is a stage. It’s not fair, but image matters sometimes more than sense.”

Which was why Padmé was there in spite of the fact that they hadn’t heard anything about her bounty hunter.

The proceedings dragged on. Three times pro-military members delayed volunteering to speak in the hopes of provoking Padmé to go early. Those silences seemed to stretch on forever.

The last one, a battle for what would probably be the last speech before the Chancellor’s closing remarks, created an empty space of three full minutes, provoking Mas Amedda to threaten to close to proceedings. The Sermerian delegation caved first. Possibly because Senator Paddie had made the mistake of meeting Padmé’s eyes.

When the Chancellor turned the floor over to the Senator from Naboo, Leia had to bite her lips to stop herself from sniggering. His face may have looked calm to many, but she knew what those carefully flattened lips meant.

* * *

The Senate was _boring_. Anakin was grateful he’d had to stay standing because otherwise he might have fallen asleep and humiliated Padmé.

The first few speeches hadn’t been so bad. Some of the arguing between speeches was pretty good. But after the third or fourth person, it was getting repetitive, a point for point attack that boiled down to, do you value what we do or what they do?

He wished Obi-Wan was here. Mind speaking was a little hard, but their bond was more than strong enough to share humor or irritation, and sometimes not being alone was the most important part.

Which was why he kept shifting (not because he had to fidget) when Padmé would start to tense. He didn’t have another way to remind her that he was here, but from her half glances at him and her slight relaxing, she did get it.

Finally, _finally_ , it was Padmé’s turn to speak. Having all the eyes in the room on their pod as it floated forward made Anakin’s skin crawl. Now he _was_ trying not to fidget. He looked to the Chancellor, hoping for… something, but the Chancellor’s attention was locked on Senator Amidala.

She waited almost a full minute once they’d stopped, until the low rumble of background noise actually quieted to almost nothing. Then she braced her hands against the sides of her podium.

“Honorable delegates,” her voice was low and clear, “I will not waste your time by repeating the arguments against the MCA which have been so clearly stated by my colleagues. Many of you are also familiar with the difficulties our delegation has faced in the last weeks, so I won’t waste your time with those either.”

That earned a murmur, but it quickly faded. “What I am here to say, to add to what has already been said, is this. You are not alone.” A breath, and her hands were turning white where they gripped the podium. “No one of you, not a single one, is alone. Because we are a Republic.”

Anakin recognized most of the pieces of what she said next. They’d gone over her speech, very quickly, with her handmaidens. She outlined what a democracy was, why it was important, why the right to choose to participate in it was equally important. Why some people might feel inclined to leave, if a democracy failed to meet their needs.

“We mourn the loss of systems and colleagues who are no longer with us,” Padmé said, hand sweeping up and down to showcase empty pods. “We miss them. We are afraid for them, and what their absence means. But we _cannot_ be afraid _of_ them. And we cannot act in this body based on that fear.”

He felt her trembling in the Force, felt the weight and the depth of her emotions, screaming to find an escape through her words. Holding her up and dragging her back. How was anyone in this room still breathing, looking at her?

“I have been accused of being naive,” Padmé said, and some of her anger leaked into her feelings, if not her voice. “I have been accused of being simplistic and pacifist and not knowing what the cost of those things means. And my associates have been accused similarly.” Her eyes found the Anselmi senator across the room. “Those accusations are _wrong_. We know the price, we know the cost. We have _paid it_ , many times with our lives. The people of Naboo do not say that we should stand back and not fight. We don’t timidly say, ‘Pick your battles.’ I stand here today with Representative Binks,” her hand flung back to point at Jar Jar, “because once I stood before this body and it failed to protect my people.

“And my answer to that,” Padmé continued, “was to reach out to those in my system and beg them to stand with us, when we had done them so much wrong. Because more important than seeming powerful was _being_ powerful. And we were stronger together. Naboo is a microcosm for the truth that can shape our Republic. We ask you to vote down this act so that in its place we can offer others. Ones that are more meaningful, more powerful, because they could bring our Republic back together and reunite us with old friends. And lead _all_ of us to a better future.”

_Don’t be afraid_ , her posture said, the echoes of her voice still quivering through the room. _Don’t be afraid, I’m with you._

Anakin would follow her anywhere, he thought, as in bursts the entire chamber broke into shouts and applause. He would follow her anywhere, do anything, anything she asked. Just so he could stay wrapped in this light that danced around her, bending the universe into something more beautiful.

* * *

The applause went on for some time, but the mood was interrupted when the broadcast decided to use the time to recap the explosion on the landing platform and all of the difficulties the Naboo delegation had been going through. And to express some surprise that Padmé had come, given the imminent threat to her life.

Leia tuned it all out, holding Shmi’s hand and waiting for the votes to come in. As the moderators reviewed the tallies the whole room held their breath. When the vote came back with the MCA defeated, Leia couldn’t even be angry that Padmé collapsed against Anakin in full view of the galaxy and started to cry.


	50. Evanescent

When Padmé’s guards arrived, Anakin started dragging her away, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other pushing away onlookers and well-wishers (or ill-wishers) just outside the pod. She was mostly composed and moving under her own power by the time they hit the hall, but she let him keep an arm around her, for support (or to keep people away, maybe).

It was a lot longer walk back to their conference room than from it.

“Yousa doin’ grand!” Jar Jar cheered the moment the door opened for them, jumping around in his Senate clothes and looking ridiculous. “Yousa makin’ Cordé moi moi proud!”

There were equal parts pain and relief from Padmé at his words and Anakin was disappointed when she stepped away. “Thank you, Jar Jar,” she said, letting Dormé bustle over and dab at her eyes. “Thank you for being there with me.”

“Mesa bein da Gungan aid’o. Mesa bein’ yousa patna. Wesa be doin a grand job, mesa think?”

“Boss Nass will be proud,” Padmé said. “He’ll be proud you were there with me and represented the Gungans. It made a difference, Jar Jar. I really think it did.”

“Aquatic planets are underrepresented in the Senate,” a voice came from behind them, inviting in a wave of chatter as the door slid open and shut. “And aquatic peoples. Many of them aren’t the primary species in their system. Acknowledging Representative Binks was a good choice.”

It was the man Padmé had been looking at earlier, the one from Alderaan. He was exhausted, but vibrating almost as much as Padmé was with happiness. She stepped forward and he pulled her into a crushing hug. Padmé squeaked in surprise, but she was too happy for Anakin to be worried.

“I’m so proud of you,” Alderaan’s senator said, holding Padmé at arms’ length. “So proud and so happy to work with you. And I’m so sorry.”

Padmé’s smile faltered a little, but she kept her head up. “Cordé knew how important this vote was.” Her lips trembled as her head ducked for just a moment. “She wouldn’t regret this.”

“Have you told anyone yet?” the senator asked, probably looking for a distraction.

Padmé shook her head. “No, but I assume people were watching.”

“Leia’s on the line,” Eirtaé was smiling. “With Sabé and Versé.” She glanced at Anakin. “And Shmi.”

Mom? Anakin almost skipped when Padmé had them open up visuals for the call, taking his spot behind Padmé. There she was, and she smiled when she saw him, a look he hadn’t seen since-

She was proud of him too.

“ _How are you feeling?_ ” Leia asked, her attention riveted on Padmé.

“I don’t even know,” Padmé answered, looking around. “Relieved, I think. Overwhelmed.”

“ _You were amazing_ ,” Leia’s tone was equal parts awe and affection and Anakin… felt bothered by it. “ _I’m so glad for you_.”

“Still not sure you agree with us?” the Alderaan man asked, and Anakin noticed that even in the holo Leia wouldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“ _Padmé and her team have had my full support leading up to this vote._ ”

“A very evasive answer,” his tone suggested it was a compliment and an insult.

Padmé frowned as she said, “Bail…”

Oh right. Organa.

Senator Organa shrugged. “I don’t mind if she disagrees. She did do her best to help, and she’s always been honest about it.” He was smiling when he said, “She pushed you, made you think. I think we did better for it.”

“ _Will you be coming home soon? Or is there more work for you on Coruscant?_ ” Mom obviously had an opinion on what the answer _should_ be to her question, and Padmé looked uncertain.

“With the Senate open again, and with the efforts we’ve made to suggest alternative routes, I don’t think it would be wise for me to leave. I have a lot of promises to keep.”

“One of which is to rely on others to cover for your weaknesses,” Senator Organa pointed out, and Anakin wanted to be angry at him for insulting Padmé, but everything about his tone and intention was pure kindness. “We do need your experience and efforts, but I think if we have you focus on the refugee movement, we can at least make you mobile if your safety requires it, while keeping you actively involved.”

“ _We can make plans another day,_ ” Leia suggested, and one of the other women on the call rolled her eyes. “ _When we’ve had time to consider the details. I imagine right now what you need most is dinner and a nap._ ”

“A bath,” Padmé answered, and Anakin’s brain skittered to a stop. “Then maybe food, and bed.” She turned to Senator Organa. “I’d like to speak to a few people before I leave. Could you help me put a list together and a schedule, so we don’t have too many at risk at once?”

“I’ll even help you make the calls,” Senator Organa agreed. “Is that C-3PO? He can advise on the order so we don’t offend anyone.”

“It is,” Padmé smiled and then said her goodbyes, and wandered to the corner with Bail.

Anakin had just gotten Jar Jar calmed down and was about to speak to his mother when the door opened again and Master Windu strode in, headed straight for Anakin, trailing a dark grey cloud around him.

“Padawan Skywalker,” Anakin didn’t wince at the title, but he knew he was neck deep and sinking in trouble. “Master Yoda and I would like to speak to you about your mission.”

That voice meant no arguing and Anakin managed a stuttered, “Of course,” before a voice from the call said, “ _Are you Master Windu?_ ”

It was Leia, of course it was Leia, who had asked. The Jedi master frowned at her, blinking as he said, “Yes. I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

“ _No, but I saw you at the negotiation banquet, after the shooting._ ” To his silence she added, “ _I’m Leia Skywalker._ ”

Master Windu couldn’t really turn green, but something about the way his face moved and the feelings around him shifted suggested greenness. Sickly, twisting greenness. “Obi-Wan Kenobi has mentioned you.”

“ _Did he? How sweet of him_.” The greenness seemed to go a bit grey, Anakin thought. “ _I know you’re busy, but I did want to thank you, and the other Jedi, for your help that night. And for being so kind as to loan us Master Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker._ ” There was something… deliberate to how she said Anakin’s full name. “ _I’m sure Padmé’s expressed her gratitude, but I hope you know how much it means to all of us that you’ve been so cooperative in allowing her to see this through._ ”

It was still green and grey, Anakin thought, but it was getting an edge of red as Master Windu replied, “Our concern has always been the Senator’s safety.”

“ _As it should be_ ,” Leia’s response was so bland Anakin felt adrift. People _did not_ react to Mace Windu, Master of the Order, with blasé platitudes. Not in Anakin’s experience. “ _In the context of the safety and wellbeing of the Republic._ ”

That was a new face. Anakin had _never_ seen Master Windu make that particular face, ever. “We do… hope to do our best for the Republic. And it’s representatives.” And before she could reply he added, “I need to speak to Padawan Skywalker now. If you’ll excuse us.”

And then Anakin was being whisked away before he could even say goodbye to his mother. Knowing he’d be scolded for it, he managed to at least look back over his shoulder and wave. So she’d know he wasn’t forgetting her.

He’d never forget her again.

“That girl,” Master Windu was rubbing his forehead as they turned down a quieter hall, “is dangerous.”

But it didn’t seem like the comment had really been meant for _Padawan Skywalker_ , so Anakin didn’t say anything in response.

Master Windu ushered Anakin into the room with Master Yoda before closing and locking the door behind them. There were only two seats and Anakin was surprised when Master Yoda gestured that he should take the second one, not Master Windu. Anakin made sure to bow respectfully to both masters before sitting.

“An interesting day this has been, hmmm?” Master Yoda seemed almost amused for a moment, before turning grave. “Unexpected, your presence was. Told you were on Naboo, we were.”

Lying seemed like a bad option, but Anakin wasn’t really sure what he could say to get out of trouble, so he just nodded, folding his arms into his sleeves and hunching a little. Master Yoda just watched him.

“Your orders were to take Senator Amidala to Naboo, using unregistered transport,” Master Windu sounded impatient and Anakin wished he didn’t have to look at him. But it would be rude not to, especially since Anakin had the last chair. “Did you, in fact, go to Naboo?”

“No.” It slipped out before Anakin had thought about it. He cringed and then regretted cringing.

Master Windu’s eyes narrowed. “No?”

“We didn’t go to Naboo,” Anakin said quietly, glancing back at Master Yoda, who was stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“Disobeyed orders, you did,” Master Yoda said, shaking his head. “Yet not told of this, we were. A conspiracy, there was, hmmm?”

“There was a plan,” Anakin tried to explain. Conspiracy sounded so bad. “The RRM had been targeted before and we weren’t completely sure about the transport and Threepio needed to be fixed and-“

“Threepio?” Master Windu cut in. “A droid?”

Oh great, this was becoming a mess. “My mom’s.”

“Your _mother’s_ droid?” Master Windu’s tone was ice and stone.

“Seen him, we have,” Master Yoda said, not particularly bothered. “Here today, he was. Work with the senator he does. Helpful, he is.” His gaze shifted back to Anakin. “Destroyed in the explosion, he had been? A great effort, it must have been, to repair him. Much of your concentration it took?”

“We were in a safe house,” Anakin tried to explain. “Somewhere no one would look for us. I made sure it was secure and then started working on Threepio.” This was going all wrong.

“And how found you this place?” Master Yoda asked, leaning forward.

“My mom-“ Anakin started, then realized he didn’t want her to get in trouble. “Well, Leia asked her. To help. The plan was Leia’s idea.”

“Leia Skywalker?” Master Windu was feeling greenish again. “Your… mother,” he winced, “adopted her?”

Anakin shrugged. “I guess. We haven’t really talked about it.”

“And you just followed her instructions, when you barely know her?” Master Windu was not impressed.

“She’s Padmé’s friend. And coworker. Padmé thought the plan was a good idea and wanted to be at the vote today. So Leia had my mom arrange it. At least, moving us. And it worked,” he added, getting angry now. This was _his_ mission. They put him in charge of it. If he had to make changes to finish it, why were they getting mad?

Master Yoda shifted and Anakin turned to him. “A wise plan, it may have been. And successful at protecting the senator, you were. But instructions, you were given, to contact us for help. If danger, you encountered, unable to find you we would have been. If lost, you had become, reflect poorly on your master and the Order, it would have.”

The way he said lost, Anakin knew he meant dead. “If I had failed to protect her of course the Order would have looked bad. If you didn’t think I could do it, why did you send me?”

(“Why don’t you believe in me?” he wanted to ask. “Why don’t you trust me and criticize how I do everything?”)

“We wouldn’t have sent you if we didn’t believe in your skills,” Master Windu said. “But we also had a framework we expected you to stay in. One _you_ had the Chancellor agree to. He was _not_ expecting you or Senator Amidala to be here today. Senate security wasn’t adjusted to account for her presence.”

“ _I’m_ her security,” Anakin couldn’t believe he had to point this out.

“But at risk the other senators were, when Senator Amidala chose to come,” Master Yoda was sounding more stern. “Realized this, you should have. The senator also.”

“Which is what happens when you leave plans to an amateur,” Master Windu sighed. “I’m sure Leia Skywalker had good intentions-“

He might not know if his mother had formally adopted Leia or not, but she was a Skywalker and that made her one of them. So Anakin had to point out, “If no one knew that Padmé was coming but us, how could the other senators be in danger?”

The masters exchanged a look. Master Windu looked pinched and frozen, but Master Yoda seemed… sad. “Correct you are, if secret it was. But impossible it would be to know if successful you were until too late.”

“Leia’s not stupid,” Anakin felt the need to add. She’d known what kinds of parts to send for Threepio. She’d made a good plan, and it had _worked_. “No one notices sla- refugees,” he corrected quickly. “No one cares where they are or what they do, as long as they stay away from important people. Asking Mom for help was a great idea. She’d talk to _people_ , not politicians. And people don’t want to hurt Padmé.”

He could see Master Windu’s frown growing as Anakin tried to explain. “Senator Amidala,” the way he emphasized her formal name told Anakin Master Windu was not happy with Anakin being informal, “is well liked by her people. But this is Coruscant-“

“Immaterial, the location is,” Master Yoda waved the half-formed argument aside. “Angry, we were, at being surprised, and frightened by what we did not know. Explained himself, Padawan Skywalker has. Disagree we may, but discuss it when Master Kenobi is back, we will.” And then he smiled. “Done well, Senator Amidala has, and protect her, you did. For that, grateful, we are.”

Master Yoda might be grateful, but Anakin was pretty sure Master Windu wished they were on a practice court so he could have an excuse to hit Anakin. Or maybe he just had a headache and wanted to go home. It was hard to tell with Master Windu.

But Anakin knew he was getting off pretty lightly for now, so he bowed in his seat to Master Yoda and said, “Thank you,” as sincerely as he could.

He wouldn’t mention knighthood now. It was definitely a bad time.

“Is Obi-Wan not on the planet?” Anakin asked, realizing what Master Yoda had said. “I thought he was looking for Pa- for the bounty hunter after Senator Amidala.”

“His search took him off planet right after you and the senator left,” Master Windu said, folding his arms. “We’re still waiting for-“

Master Windu’s comm buzzed and he checked it. It must have been marked as urgent because he answered it. “Yes?”

“ _We’re receiving a communication directed to the High Council, specifically to you or Master Yoda. Should we patch it through or tell them you’ll contact them later?_ ” Had to hand it to the regular communications team. They weren’t intimidated by contacting Council members.

“Patch it through,” Master Windu said, coming to stand beside Master Yoda. The tiny form that appeared in the staticky holo was definitely Obi-Wan. “Good timing.”

It was hard to tell with the interference, but Anakin was pretty sure Obi-Wan didn’t know what to do with that greeting. “ _Is it?_ ”

“Excellent timing,” Master Yoda agreed. “Expecting your report, we were.”

“Confirming the senator’s safety is becoming a time sensitive issue,” Master Windu added, his eyes darting to Anakin for a moment. “Have you found her assassin?”

Attempted assassin, Anakin wanted to correct. Because Padmé was _still alive_ , no thanks to Master Windu.

“ _Well,_ _I have successfully made contact with the Prime Minister of Kamino. They are using a bounty hunter named Jango Fett to create a clone army, and I have a strong feeling that this bounty hunter is the assassin we’re looking for._ ”

Anakin had never heard of Kamino (and Obi-Wan was clever with words, _he_ had no excuse for saying “assassin”), but he didn’t like the sound of “clone army.” The senate had just voted against forming a military, hadn’t they?

“And do you think these cloners are involved in the plot to assassinate Senator Amidala?” Master Windu asked, getting straight to the point.

“ _No, Master. There appears to be no motive._ ”

Master Yoda was stroking his chin again. “Kamino is maker of armies, and refusing to take up arms, the senate voted. Perhaps a deal was to be made.”

“ _The senate voted against an army?_ ” Obi-Wan sounded worried. “ _Are you sure?_ ”

“We were just at the vote,” Master Windu said, taking the time to glare at Anakin. “You can ask your Padawan how it went.”

“ _Anakin_?” And that was dismay. “ _He’s on Naboo…_ ” A sharp gesture from Master Windu was more than enough to get Anakin to hover behind Master Yoda, watching Obi-Wan bury his face in his hand. “ _What have you done now?_ ”

“Discuss the matter later, we will,” Master Yoda actually glared at Master Windu and Anakin smiled. “A motive…”

Obi-Wan responded to that invitation with, “ _The Kaminoans say Master Sifo-Dyas placed an order for a clone army at the request of the senate almost ten years ago. But I was under the impression he was killed before that. And that this was the only legislation to suggest the formal creation of a Republic army._ ”

“You’re right,” Master Windu said. “This is the first time that the matter has been brought before the senate, and no one ever suggested purchasing clones. They certainly didn’t bring that request to the Jedi Council.”

“But take the matter into their own hands and order these clones someone did, claiming the Council’s consent,” Master Yoda was pulling on the Force, and it swirled tightly around him. “If requested, the Kaminoans will give us this army?”

“ _I believe so. The way they were speaking, they’ve been waiting for a Council representative to come see the results, and possibly to offer more business_.”

“Will there be additional fees if we don’t come and collect them?” Master Windu asked. “We aren’t going to need them and-“

Anakin had a sudden thought, “If it’s the Jedi’s army, why would the bounty hunter helping make it go after Pa- Senator Amidala?” Anakin asked. “Did you miss something?”

He was definitely going to get an earful for that one later, but Obi-Wan just said, “ _If the Jedi didn’t order the army, which seems to be the case, it’s much less surprising that the bounty hunter involved would want a senator against the formation of an army out of the way. Fett’s being paid what I’m told is a considerable sum of money to be the template for these clones._ ”

“Fett’s in it for the money?” Master Windu asked, something in the room tensing.

“ _He also had the cloners make an exact copy of himself, with none of the acceleration adjustments they do for the army clones to make them a viable option._ ”

“More information we need,” Master Yoda said gravely, “if we are to discover the truth behind this purchase.”

The words made Anakin squirm. This was… this was _wrong_. The Republic didn’t _purchase_ soldiers, not if they were people.

“ _Jango Fett is currently here. He claims not to have been to Coruscant recently, but his armor could match what Anakin and I saw the night we caught the other bounty hunter. If he is involved he isn’t willing to talk. Kamino is technically outside of the Republic, so an arrest might be difficult._ ”

“Bring him here,” Master Yoda said, waving the concerns aside. “Question him, we will.”

“What about his son?” Anakin asked.

Master Windu looked irritated at the question, but Master Yoda said, “Bring him also. Carefully.”

“ _Yes, Master. I will report back when I have him._ ” Obi-Wan glanced anxiously at Anakin. “ _The senator…_ ”

“Made a stirring speech and is still being congratulated,” Master Windu said, insult in every word. “We’ll be revisiting the issue of her security and Padawan Skywalker’s assignment now that the vote has passed.”

“ _I see. Well,_ ” Obi-Wan looked to Anakin again for a moment, “ _may the Force be with you_.”

As the holo flickered out, Anakin found himself fretting. “How did the Jedi end up buying a clone army?”

“We didn’t-“ Master Windu snapped, but Master Yoda held up a hand.

“An army was purchased,” he murmured. “And in the Council’s name. More we will learn from Obi-Wan’s efforts.”

“What are we going to do with them?” Anakin asked, hating how small his voice sounded. “The senate just said that they don’t want an army. Who’s going to take care of them?”

The masters were silent for a long time. Long enough Anakin started fidgeting.

“We’ll wait for Obi-Wan’s report,” Master Windu said at last. “And we’ll talk to Jango. Once we know how many clones there are and why he helped create them, then we can decide what to do.”

That didn’t sound like much of a plan, but Anakin couldn’t think of anything better. “I hope they’re not scared,” he muttered. “If they know about the vote, that no one wants them, it has to be frightening.”

Nothing was worse than knowing you weren’t needed. That was when masters got cruel. Or creative.

“If a home is required then find one, we will,” Master Yoda said, hopping down from the chair and tapping his way across the floor. “Come, Padawan Skywalker. And speak of this to no one. Not until more information is had.”

* * *

Leia was just getting ready to crawl into bed when she got Padmé’s call. Making sure Shmi was asleep, Leia answered, making herself comfortable against her pillows. “Hey you.”

In the stillness of the dark the blue glow of Padmé’s form had a sort of haunting effect. Only her expression of joy prevented Leia from wandering down paths that were too maudlin (she didn’t need to imagine Padmé dead…).

“ _I’m sorry, did I wake you?_ ”

“No, I was still up. Waiting to see if we got any updates.”

“ _I spoke to Sabé, but she said she’d already left, and I didn’t get a chance to thank you._ ” Padmé almost looked flustered. “ _You didn’t have to do this. All of it. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you_.”

Leia thought about the look on Palpatine’s face, about the roar from the crowd when Padmé had finished speaking, about the sadness in Leia’s father’s eyes when Bail had used to talk about his dear friend (so like the sadness in those other eyes…), and she couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry. You already did.”

“ _I thought you were considering the benefits of an army._ ”

Why did everyone get stuck on that? “Entertaining an idea isn’t the same thing as being willing to die for an ideal. I think there is a purpose to organizing something vaguely like a Republic sponsored military force. That being said, with how close the vote was, I’m not sure I’d trust this senate to know what to do with it. So a delay might be for the best.”

“ _I hope so._ ” Her attention shifted. Leia couldn’t say how she knew, but it was no surprise when Padmé said, “ _Tell Shmi I’m sorry the Jedi dragged Anakin away so quickly, please. I didn’t realize they were going to corner him while we were still here._ ”

Poor kid. Leia had so many doubts about him, but the look on his face when Master Windu had appeared had sparked her sympathy. Anakin might be a force of nature, but the Jedi Master was a trained, focused force unto himself. “I know she wanted to talk to him, but I think she got busy scolding me.”

“ _For what?_ ” Padmé demanded, baffled.

“Threepio,” Leia sighed, shaking her head and smiling.

It didn’t work as well as she hoped it would. “ _She didn’t want Threepio fixed? Or was it Anakin-_ “ Then a frown, “ _How much did his coverings cost_?”

“That question,” Leia said, letting her nose drift into the air, “is very rude. I can’t believe you asked it. So impertinent.”

She tried to give the last words some of Threepio’s lilt and knew she’d managed when Padmé smirked. “ _It’s very convenient that you can hide behind that excuse, isn’t it?_ ” A pause and then, “ _I know how much we pay you. Anakin said they were custom. Do you need-_ “

“No,” Leia said firmly. “I don’t. I’d already been saving up for them.” Which had cut into her speeder upgrade fund, and the tentative dream she had of someday buying her own ship. It would be justified if she kept working between Coruscant and Naboo, and once it wasn’t suspicious for her to have one, she could use it for… other things. “He’d been fretting about his appearance since the first day in the Senate. I figured now that he would be living off Tatooine, it would be a good gift.”

She hadn’t been sure, at first, that she’d pick the same color as in her memories. But the temptation had been too strong. She hadn’t even seen him properly yet (Shmi’d been more angry that Leia hadn’t asked for a contribution from her grandmother, but that would have required admitting the price, and no sense in provoking that fight), but something about him had felt right as Leia had watched him shuffle into and out of frame for a moment.

“ _We can reimburse you,_ ” Padmé insisted. “ _You did it because of your work, we have droid maintenance funds_.”

Probably not in this price range. “I’ll think about it,” Leia promised, knowing she would eventually cave. Once she got Versé to admit to what the droid budget actually was. Then Leia could submit an appropriately reduced receipt. “What are your plans?”

“ _I’m staying here for now,_ ” Padmé said. “ _But they’re switching my guard. Someone more suited to the senate should be arriving back on planet in a few days._ ”

Leia hoped it was Master Gallia, just so she wouldn’t have to start from scratch wheedling her way into their good graces. “Alright. Let me know if you need me to come back.”

“ _I will_ ,” Padmé promised. “ _But for security reasons, it probably won’t be right now. Is that okay?_ ”

“I live to serve,” Leia said and Padmé’s brow went up. “It’s fine. I’m used to waiting.”

Padmé’s head tilted and a finger came up to touch her lip. “ _It’s funny, I’ve never really gotten that impression_.”

“Everything is relative,” Leia sniffed. Then shrugged. “Keep me posted on what you need me working on. I’ll take orders from Sabé while I’m here.”

“ _Promise_?”

Leia opened her mouth to say yes, closed it, and then said, “No, but I’ll do my best.”

“ _You’ll do exactly what you think is needed,_ ” Padmé sighed.

“Whatever is necessary,” Leia agreed.

“ _And don’t look back_ ,” her memory whispered, the image of Vader’s ghost brilliant in her mind, before he faded into nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I started this story under the belief that it would be long, but it was one story. Maybe a couple hundred thousand words, but all of a nice cohesive piece with a couple overarching themes that would tie into each other, and a few major plot points with a bit of narrative string holding them together. Easy peasy.
> 
> I can still hear my beta laughing at me, 800 miles away.
> 
> After some consideration, consultation with said beta, some maniacal cackling and some head banging against a desk (I'll let you guess which off us was doing which), I've come to the conclusion that for the way my brain works thematically, this will now have to be cut into pieces. I'll spare myself the embarrassment of guessing how many or few of them. I have always been wrong, and will probably be wrong again if I try.
> 
> That being said, while Like Fire is now listed as completed, fear not, I am not leaving the story to end here. There is plenty more to be read. Just probably not this week. I'll need a smidge of time to get a handle on exactly where this next bit is going (especially because it decided to change major plot points just as my head was hitting my pillow last night, thanks brain).
> 
> Thank you all for your support and interest. As this project has grown I've had more and more anxieties about finishing it and whether the endeavor was worth it. Your comments and statistical presence make it easier to encourage myself to keep going. I really, really, really appreciate it. I hope you're pleased with the results.
> 
> (And yes, if you listen closely, you too may be able to hear my beta still laughing.)


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